> Fine Print
>  by Starscribe
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy Maxwell made his nervous way down the elevator into the company parking structure, conscious of a dozen security cameras on him every moment. It didn’t matter that he belonged here, a part of him still didn’t believe any of this was real.

Big companies like Apex Technology didn’t often hire self-taught engineers like himself. It was all about that degree, about how prestigious the school and perfect his grades. He touched the lanyard around his neck one last time for reassurance, tracing the edges of the comfortable plastic. His keys to the kingdom, not yet turned to dust.

Or at least the keys to his internship. With hiring as a full-time employee contingent on job performance.

It wasn’t much, but he didn’t mind the bright green stripe on his badge for three more months. Soon enough it would be the real thing, and he’d never be counting the days to a paycheck ever again.

Tracy had a good long while to walk, all the way to the bottom floor of the parking structure, where no other vehicles were left, and the lights flickered overhead. So far that had been enough to stop any of his coworkers from noticing the boxes and piles of his possessions in his backseat, all the way up to the windows. 

He glanced around once to be sure, then slid quickly inside. He had to shove a pile of clothes and toiletries back over to the passenger side, until he was reasonably certain nothing was going to fall onto the pedals.

His old Civic whined and protested as he shifted into second gear around the corners, but didn’t seize up this time. You won’t have to carry this much weight for much longer, old girl. Don’t give out on me yet.

As he finally rounded the exit on the ground floor, his phone started to ring. He pressed the little button beside his ear, and soon a hissing voice came in over the other end. “Is this Mr. Maxwell?”

He winced, not taking his hands from the wheel as he passed through the security gate. “Sure is.” He already knew the voice—she’d left two separate messages on his workstation phone already.

“This is Karen from HR,” she said, in that same utterly emotionless tone. “You were supposed to visit at the end of the day, with your proof of address form. Are you still in the office?”

“Sorry, already on the interstate,” he lied. “I’ll… have to bring that by first thing tomorrow.”

He could hear her disapproval clearly, even over the phone. “You better, Mr. Maxwell. Here at Apex Technology we’re federally required to offer a number of internship positions to local talent only. Your application was under that auspice—if you don’t have proof of address on file by the end of the week, I’ll have to escalate your case towards termination. This isn’t just a formality, Mr. Maxwell. You must complete it if you wish to continue to work with us.”

“I’ll get there early tomorrow,” he blurted. “I’ll be at your office first thing.”

There was a brief silence. He could practically hear her disbelief in the steady clacking sound of a keyboard. “I’ve made a note of that, Mr. Maxwell. Don’t be late.” The line went dead.

Tracy pulled into the Arby’s just a little distance from the massive corporate compound, his heart still racing. It felt a little like he’d narrowly dodged a bullet. But his survival was narrow indeed, and he’d really only bought a few more hours. If he didn’t have a signed lease when he came back into work… that would be it. Uprooting his life would’ve been for nothing. He didn’t even have enough left in his account for the gas to drive home.

Not that there’s anything waiting there for me either.

Tracy flipped through his phone to the list of potential apartments and housing he’d made, almost all highlighted in red. Once he was working full time as an engineer, paying these rents would be no problem. Surviving the three months until then on the measly stipend of an intern, though…

There was only a single item left on his list, a craigslist URL so far at the bottom he hadn’t even noticed it. But just because he’d rejected any of the options he thought might actually be good didn’t mean he had to give up on this one. At this point, he might be forced to take it despite whatever flaws it had.

He opened up the listing, and was blown away by just how much was being offered. Private bedroom, utilities included, no insurance requirements or credit check. There was only street parking, but that was pretty much a given with the sort of cheap places he could afford. Best of all, he’d only have to share the place with a single roommate. True, there were a few pages of boring contract attached, but a quick skim showed nothing he hadn’t seen a dozen times before. 

Better than the plan of pretending a hostel is a house and hoping nobody steals my laptop for three months.

Of course, he’d been searching for somewhere to live for the last two weeks now, and there was a good chance it wouldn’t even be available anymore. Tracy ignored the stares, and tapped the number in the listing. To his relief, it only rang after a single time.

“Lancer Realty!” said a cheerful male voice. “Proudly serving the greater Silicon Valley area since—” Then he stopped. “I assume you’re calling about a property?”

“Yeah.” Tracy touched the speaker phone icon, then tabbed over to the listing again. “Just this, uh… duplex down on 27th and Main. I was just wondering if it was still available.”

There was barely a second’s pause on the other end, as though the speaker had been expecting that exact reply. “There are several interested parties, given the area and the price we’re offering. But I’m willing to offer the property to whoever signs first.”

“Today—” he blurted. “I can, uh…” He sat up a little straighter, wiping the sweat from his brow. Not having working AC didn’t matter much underground, but parked in the sun and he was already starting to feel the heat. “I can sign today.”

Even as he said it, he knew he could be making a mistake. The photos online made the place seem downright charming, if plain on the outside. Maybe those were ancient photos, taken before a more recent tenant had destroyed it.

But do I even care? So long as I can prove I have a lease, it doesn’t matter if it’s only a room to dump my stuff. It’s enough to stay working.

“Well, you sound eager. Tell you what—can you meet at the property in… an hour? If we can make a deal today, you can have it.”

“Done,” he said, without hesitating this time. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

Tracy spent the next little while getting a nervous supper just inside, and not at all freaking out about the stakes. Deep breaths, Tracy. Obviously the real estate people need this deal as much as you do, or they wouldn’t be offering something so good. You’re bound to get it signed. And if it sucks, you can rent something else in three more months and leave the place empty. Money won’t even matter once you’re hired full-time.

Tracy drowned his woes in whatever was actually in the Arby’s roast beef. Probably meat, though he was never exactly sure.

For anything else, he’d drive over eventually and not care much if he was a little late. Being on time was always a matter of perspective anyway. But he couldn’t do that now, not when he needed the contract so badly. He parked in front of the place a good ten minutes before the hour was up, then got up and started brushing off a little of the dust with his hoodie. 

The old girl looked like she badly needed a wash, and nothing he could do in a few minutes was going to make much difference. But once I’ve got someplace to live, I should be able to find the time for a wash. It won’t be a big deal for much longer.

With a few moments more, Tracy took his time to look over the front of the property, checking for anything that might suggest he was being scammed somehow. But no, it looked exactly like it did in the pictures. An inoffensive duplex, with a lawn mostly dead except for a few patches of weeds and wildflowers. But that was fine—most of the neighbors just had gravel anyway. If they didn’t care, that was much less work for him. 

There wasn’t a driveway, or any other cars parked out front. Probably my roommate works as much as I do. He’ll be out until late. Just like I would be if I wasn’t on the run from HR.

The front door windows were fairly sizable, wrapping around the door itself—but they were stained for privacy, not affording much of a view inside. There was a second story window, but the blinds were shut. I wonder if that’s my bedroom. Probably don’t have to worry about thieves as much if I’m on the second story.

He didn’t have much longer to wait—another car pulled in behind his, and he turned to stare.

A few years ago, he might’ve been instantly horrified by its appearance, and gotten into his car to drive away without even looking back.

It looked like it had once been a limousine, or maybe a hearse. But it had suffered an accident or twenty, and been gradually replaced an odd interval. The passenger side-door was a shiny black, while the hood was rusty orange with a few openings to the engine inside.

Then the driver stepped out. He was an exact match to his vehicle, a willowy figure with several different colors of patchwork suit all sewn together. Like a… caricature of a used car salesman. He even had half a mustache on one side of his face, while the other side had a goatee.

You are fucking kidding me. Tracy stared openly at him as he approached, forgetting to even pretend he was being respectful. No wonder you can’t fill this place. You look like you’re trying to sell me something out of Alice in Wonderland.

“You’re Tracy?” he asked, the same voice he’d heard over the line. He stuck out a hand. “I’m Lancer Realty, at least for right now.” He glanced back at his car, eyes narrowing a little. “You look like a man who knows what that’s like. You probably wear a fair few hats yourself.”

He took the offered hand, surprised at the strength of the man’s grip. Maybe it was just age that made him seem so thin, and not weakness. “Enough. I guess if you’re here, I found the right place.”

“Can’t miss it.” He whipped out a folder from somewhere, holding it out. “Here’s the lease. Boilerplate stuff, really. No house parties, no early termination. $500 on the third of every month, no smoking… a copy of this was online, so I’m sure you read it.”

He took the folder. “Yeah, uh… of course I did. Read the whole thing already.” He opened the folder, and found lots of familiar headings inside, with impossible-to-read legalese packed in dense enough to make his eyes glaze over. “Just remind me—all the utilities are included, it’s $500 flat. No… hidden charges tucked away anywhere?”

The realtor smiled at him, teeth seeming strangely… sharp? No, that was probably just the sun getting to him. “There’s no increase to your rent in the lease, no. Just the late fee and agreement to compensate for damage. It’s almost dreadfully dull, in fact. And the deposit is non-monetary, so you don’t need to worry about making anything until next week.” He spun his delicate fingers around, offering a glittering gold pen.

Tracy took it without thinking, then froze. He didn’t even ask for my ID. No background check, no credit card… “Shouldn’t I take a tour or something first?” he asked. “We’re here anyway.”

“I mean… you probably should.” The man didn’t move, however. “But you must need this place pretty badly if we’re still having this conversation.” He reached out, tapping the trunk with two fingers. The lock gave, vomiting out his bed linens onto the asphalt. “Why not sign now, and I can help you get moved in? You look like you’ll need it.”

Of course, he was right. If this contract walked away from him, then he’d almost certainly lose the internship, and with it any chance of long-term employment. He didn’t even know this realtor’s name; how could he know so much?

“That’s a hard sell,” he said, taking the pen and searching the contract for the lines. “This isn’t usually how these are done.”





The man only shrugged. “Hence the way I look, Tracy. You know they say the same thing about those… messages you all get, from the prince of Nigeria? They’re never that plausible, are they? Because the ones running them don’t want the sort of people who question something outrageous. They want the ones willing to take a daring chance on success.”

He leaned forward, resting a hand on Tracy’s shoulder and yanking him. “Take a chance on success, Mr. Maxwell. There’s nowhere quite like this in the city. Make your next year a year to remember.”

Why the hell is he just telling me? He just compared himself to a Nigerian email scammer. And yet, he hadn’t given back the contract. In some ways, it didn’t even matter if something was wrong with the property. So long as it was somewhere he could get his mail, and somewhere he could toss a mattress onto the floor, it was probably good enough. 

Tracy initialed three times, then signed on the next page. The gold pen sure did write well, with a deep red ink that went slightly brownish before his eyes. “And that’s the difficult bit taken care of.” 

The man tore off the back of the cheap carbon-paper, offering it to Tracy. “You’ll want this for your work, no doubt. The price you pay for success.” He snatched the folder free, closing it with a snap.

He spun around to reach for his strange car, and suddenly the folder was gone, replaced with a single key. A silly plastic horseshoe hung from the end, just big enough that it would annoy him in his pocket. “And here you are. Key works on both sides of the house, and on the mailbox. There’s a slot for rent inside, I’ll show you when we move in.”

It all sounded so suddenly… final. “Is any of this legal? I didn’t see any bank stuff, or tax forms, or…” He shrugged. He hadn’t actually rented anywhere before. Maybe everything that made this seem incredibly sketchy was just the reason such a good offer hadn’t been claimed yet.

“If you’re asking if you’re going to get in trouble for signing here—absolutely not. As torturous as it can be to drag oneself through a bureaucratic morass to license a property for tenants. Just keep to the lease, and everything’s fine.”

He made his way over to the back of Tracy’s car, knocking against the trunk again. It opened as before—something it had never done for anyone else. “I did mean it when I said I’d help you move in. Please, what can I carry? That ‘living in your car’ thing is depressing me just standing nearby.”

“Sure, uh…” He hesitated, then shrugged. It wasn’t as though he had to be too worried about this strange realtor running off with his possessions—with one exception, it wasn’t really worth much anyway. Even to a man who wore a dozen different suits sewn together, and who drove something put together in a junkyard. “Just grab whatever. I’ll…”

He reached into the driver’s seat, tossing the backpack onto his shoulders before grabbing as much of his clothes as he could carry in both arms without losing the key. It probably looked pretty pathetic, but… at this point, he’d already signed.

“Why bother working so hard to fill your vacancy?” he asked conversationally, as they made their way up the little trail between dead weeds and bushes. “My rent can’t make that much difference to a… large real estate firm.”

The other laughed amicably. He’d somehow managed to stack up every single thing in the truck, blankets and old suitcases and a few plastic crates of electronics all piled atop each other without slipping. It looked like he should collapse at any moment, yet he walked without dislodging it. Somehow.

“No reason of terrible consequence to you. Suffice it to say that it wasn’t advantageous to keep the property empty. A house without anyone to live inside it is like a flowerpot without a rose, or a body without a soul. And if nothing else, think of the opportunity. Somewhere for you to live, and a chance to meet those who might not otherwise enter your… circle of experience.”

More non-answers. He’s going to try and harvest my organs, isn’t he? 

Tracy touched briefly against his pocket, and the reassuring lump of his phone tucked away inside. At least if something did go bad, he could always call the police.

His companion stopped beside the door, moving aside despite his heavy load without complaint. What probably would’ve taken Tracy half a dozen trips, this wiry old man had done in just one. “You’ve got the only key. It’s your new place, I’ll let you do the honors.”

And you’ll be behind me. Tracy braced his arms against the door, fishing blindly with one hand until he found the knob. Finally he located what he was looking for, and he settled the key firmly inside.

For a second, he imagined an almost electric pulse passing through the metal, up into his arm. It didn’t hurt, but it was also strong enough that he couldn’t ignore it. “Static.” He shook out his arm, then gripped the bundle again. He’d have to get it through to the empty bedroom.

“I still don’t know your name,” he said, bracing his knee on the handle. “I’d like to know who, uh… struck such a great deal with me.”

“Oh, right. How clumsy of me.” He reached sideways, and somehow Tracy felt a hand on the square of his back. How the hell could he do that without dropping all that gear?

At the same moment, the door swung open in front of him, leading to a strange, impossibly small space. Like staring into an optical illusion, or a movie set not built to accommodate close inspection. Except… no, that wasn’t quite it.

“You can call me Discord.” He shoved, sending Tracy stumbling through the door into forever.
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It felt like he could fall forever.

Tracy’s arm-full of supplies spilled out in front of him, dumping his possessions on the floor. But he barely even noticed, he was much too worried about falling himself. For some reason he couldn’t keep his balance, and he flopped forward, arms flailing out to either side as he tried to catch himself. 

The ground came rushing up to meet him, and his hands struck with an abrupt, numbing shock. He froze a moment, mind reeling like he’d been shot. What the hell had just happened? Why did everything feel so… wrong?”

He blinked bleariness from his eyes, hoping his surroundings would give him a clue. A plain, cement hallway, with light streaming in through a little door on the far side. He felt like he should’ve been utterly blind in the space, yet somehow he could make out the bag of toiletries in front of him, and the bundles of clothes just past it. 

Then a voice spoke from behind him, a voice he now knew belonged to a man called “Discord.”

“Well, that’s going to be an interesting challenge. But I suppose I should’ve known what I was getting into, signing one of you ‘technical’ creatures. Not a one in any galaxy can go to bed at a reasonable hour. Well you’ll fit in perfectly here.” Then came a hand on his shoulder, feeling strangely larger than before in a way he couldn’t quite explain. 

“I know you… but I can’t remember what I’m doing here. What…” It came back to him, one little strand at a time. He needed somewhere to live, or he was going to get fired. He’d taken a desperate last-ditch contract. The relator was helping him move in. “This is… I’m sorry this is so awkward. Can you help me stand up?” He offered one hand, still feeling entirely numb. The fingers in particular felt like he’d soaked his whole hand in cement.

“No need, Tracy. You’re already standing just fine. Don’t worry if you feel a little scrombled by the whole process—passing between universes can do that the first few times. You’ll adapt.”

“I don’t… What the fuck is going on?” He glanced once over his shoulder, finding even his neck moved sluggishly. And worse, nothing he saw made any sense. He stumbled forward, trying and failing to rise with every few steps. There was a doorway up ahead, and a window. Maybe someone else would be here, someone to make any of this make sense.

Each step was another reminder that things weren’t right. Had his shoes fallen off, why could he feel the ground there too? 

His back felt strangely trapped, as though his arms were tied there, though he couldn't make any sense of what he was feeling. Maybe he'd been carrying too much for his first trip? Even so, Tracy didn't slow down. That voice over his shoulder urged him onward, even as he spoke with nothing but friendliness.

"You really shouldn't move so quickly, Tracy. You're adapting to things that most humans will never experience. Take it slow, let your brain catch up. Even Alicorns struggle when they pass between worlds for the first time. There's no shame in that."

Tracy glanced backwards, and this time he got a clearer view of whatever was behind him. The real-estate agent that called himself Discord, with the mismatched suit—except that those weren't just bits of different fabric anymore, they were entirely different limbs. More like a deranged version of Frankenstein’s monster, assembled with no regard for the graves robbed to put it together.

Tracy shuddered, stumbling over the clothes he'd still been trying to carry and finally reaching the door. The light on the other side wasn't stained orange with late afternoon, but still blue-white. He didn't stop to wonder how that might be possible, and instead shoved his shoulder up against the door. He was in luck—it swung inward, letting him stumble into the living room.

He remembered this place, he'd seen pictures of it on Craigslist. A charming, old-fashioned style kitchen, with a fridge that could've come out of the fifties covered in illustrations of flowers. The living room had no television, only some worn-looking sofas with heart pillows, and a ceiling-length mirror running up the wall. That left it with a clear view of him, and Tracy had no choice but to see what was reflected there.

At first he thought it was a strangely-framed picture of a… horse? He couldn't think of anything else to call it, even if it didn't look much like any horse he'd ever seen. The body was covered in dark fur, and its mane was a mix of different blues. Who the hell would do that to their poor farm animal?

But what kind of farm animal had a set of wings on its back, connected with thin skin membranes like a bat? But then the animal moved, banishing any possibility that it could be a painting. The ears twitched and flattened, the eyes squinted forward as though the image was staring back at him. It was staring at him, because he was the one staring. Tracy advanced, crawling forward on all fours, and the almost-horse walked forward to meet him. He leaned to one side to inspect the brightly-colored tail, and the creature did the same. "W-what..." The animal's mouth moved when he did, exposing pointed fangs within.

"You see what I mean? You have every reason to be justified in your confusion, young Tracy. Why don't you let me get the rest of your possessions moved in while you figure yourself out?" He got one more glimpse of that horrifying creature, created of many strange parts of others, before it was gone again the way it had come. Still carrying his stuff.

Tracy turned again, staring at the reflection. This explained a great deal of what he was seeing, the pressure on his back and the air around his back that could only mean he'd become abruptly naked. He felt a set of... saddlebags, was that the word? In the exact brown and gray colors of his old backpack, with the same oversized rectangle inside that suggested the laptop packed into its padded compartment within. And as for his jeans and company polo—the polo had transformed into a vest, and the jeans into a set of almost-socks running up all four of his legs. Again there were the same colors here, even a little gold on the top of the not-socks that suggested the belt he'd been wearing.

"But it doesn't... it doesn't cover anything." He tilted to the side in a daze, and somehow managed to lift one his back legs out of the way. What he saw there confirmed every bit of his fears. He was naked, and none of what was back there resembled human anymore. He shuddered, ears flattening again as he settled his leg back where it belonged. At least between that and the tail it was mostly obscured, though it would be clearly visible to anyone looking back at him from up ahead, or if his tail moved...

What am I thinking? I'm completely losing my mind. None of this can be real. I've been drugged, or I'm in VR, or... something. "It's really happening" obviously couldn't be right. There had to be a scientific explanation.

Review. You were moving into the new property. It seemed incredibly sketchy, but you were desperate not to lose your job. You followed the real estate guy inside, and now... Where was he now?

Tracy turned from the mirror, continuing past it towards a set of old-fashioned picture windows near the door. It looked like the front of the house far more than the entrance he'd used, and one of them was already open. A bright afternoon breeze drifted in, pleasantly cool against his coat.

And through it was... somewhere else. Somewhere he'd never seen before. Somewhere that shouldn't exist. The structures conformed to no rule he knew, with pink glass and hearts set into the cement foundations and around their window frames. But no matter how strange those might look, nothing could compete with the ones walking around between them.

In retrospect, he probably should've suspected what would be waiting for him on the other side based on his own reflection. Why else would he look like this, except to populate an entire... city of such creatures.





There were horses outside, horses more numerous than he'd seen at any equestrian show in his life. Though like him, they didn't conform to any of the usual rules about color, and their shapes were only generally suggestive of horses. Some had wings, feathery things that they used to glide through the air. Others had protrusions emerging from their heads, though he couldn't guess at what those were for.

Tracy turned quickly away, ignoring a friendly wave from a gray-colored horse with wings and an adorable mailbag on her back. He couldn't be looking at this—none of this could exist. The longer he stared, the more utterly out of place he felt.

I need to get out. Even if his senses were lying to him, some suggestive placeholders remained, that maybe he could use to escape. He remembered how he'd gotten here in the first place, that hallway to the door with the stained glass. He stumbled, tripping over his own legs as he made his way back down the hall. He bent down, scooping up his keys as he went. Without hands, he had no choice but to take them in his mouth. Good enough. If he got back to his car, maybe whatever he'd been doped with would be wearing off enough to get away.

None of the clothes he'd dropped were still in the hallway, and he could see the boring brown tile going all the way to the door. There was no telling how that had happened, but he also didn't really care. Keeping his job mattered, having somewhere to live mattered, but not more than not getting killed.

He stumbled out the open doorway, and felt another incredible rush. The ground seemed to fall away beneath him, as he lost track of where he was standing for a moment. Then everything crashed back into focus, a little faster than it had last time. He didn't stumble in total blindness for minutes, or wonder how he'd become so small.

He was standing outside, on a weedy path leading away from the rental house. The door was still open behind him, leading to a plain hallway. There was nothing even a little bit strange about it. It could've just as easily been any other house.

The cool air must be clearing my head. I have to get away from here. He took a few steps forward, and realized abruptly that he was on two legs again. He was still wearing everything he remembered—jeans, his company polo, and the backpack with his laptop. Good, he still had the most important thing he owned. Everything else could be secondary if he could get out alive with that much. This would do just fine.

He jogged forward a few more steps, over to the waiting automobile. But he stopped abruptly before he could get much closer, staring in horror at the figure waiting there beside it.

There was the man in the mismatched suit, the one who had introduced himself only as "Discord." The one who had followed him... where, exactly? Through the door into another world?

"You're confused," he said, leaning on the side of his passenger seat. He popped up, taking a few steps towards him, and causing Tracy to withdraw in fear. But he couldn't go much further—that car was his escape, and the open door behind him was hardly a way out. It was a return to horror. "I get that. Anyone would be in your place. But you should really take the time to think through what you're about to do before you do it."

Tracy hesitated, flailing one arm vaguely in his direction. "You're... lucky I don't have a gun. Whatever you did to me... get out of the way. I'm leaving."

"Who am I to stop you?" Discord stepped aside, letting him wobble over to the car. He could see inside now, see that the interior was so spotless it might've been dry-cleaned. There wasn't so much as a sock left on the seats. Only his little Bluetooth plugin was still inside, right where he left it. Weird thing not to rob if you're going to steal everything I have. It's more valuable than anything I was keeping in the car.

"What did you do?" He still wasn't thinking straight. His memory still spoke of impossible things that obviously couldn't have happened. He could ignore some of them, but... he could still remember the look of that reflection. The feeling of that strangely sensitive skin on his back, crushed by his backpack. "Where's my stuff?"

Discord retreated again, pulling one hand up to his chest. "I helped you get moved in, of course. It's all waiting for you in your room. And a word of free advice—as a connoisseur of chaos, maximum disorder isn't actually that interesting. You're better off having some systems in mind to find the things you need. Just make them unexpected to keep creatures guessing. And quit it with the plastic bins."

Tracy glanced around, scanning the streets. An occasional vehicle passed every minute or so, but otherwise they seemed totally alone. There were no pedestrians, and the only homes with lights on had their shades drawn. It was an unnatural, eerie look for a place so deep inside a city. "What did you do to me?" he whispered, stumbling forward to glare at him. "What kind of drug was that? How'd you give it to me without feeding me or injecting me?"

Discord shook his head. "Not a drug, not a hallucination. I don't understand how you can be so confused, Tracy. It's in your contract."

All this time you knew my name. Now that I think about it, I don't think I ever introduced myself. “No it isn't."

Discord reached past him, to the folded-over piece of carbon paper emerging from his back pocket. He thrust it forward into his hand, unfolding it. "It's section C, paragraph 16. You initialed by it specifically, I don't know why you're so shocked by what it says now."

Tracy wasn't even sure why he bothered looking back down at the contract. But at least the pages were something more familiar than what his memory was telling him. He could study it, and maybe in searching for whatever Discord wanted would at least let him make sense of the man's motives. There has to be a reason for this. I'm not crazy.

Drugs on the paper itself? It didn't feel wet, and he didn't see any powder going into his face. Besides, the man had handled it with his bare hands too, and obviously wasn't completely tripping out either. He found the relevant paragraph without any difficulty at all. The words weren't hard to read, and he wasn't having trouble concentrating. If he really was drugged, they were drugs with a strange way of affecting him.

"The property will remain firmly placed within Ponyville's city limits for the duration of the contract. Leasee will assume form appropriate to the district while dwelling in the property, and may return to their normal form upon exit. For this reason, they may not bring more than one (1) houseguest at a time, or host guests overnight for longer than three (3) days.

He looked up, gasping in disbelief. He'd really signed something that said something so stupid? But there were his initials, faded a little around the edges just as the weird brown ink would've been. "But just because it's written down doesn't mean it matters," he insisted, shoving the contract back towards Discord. "These are just words! They don't mean anything. Contracts are enforced by a court!"

The man in his suit withdrew a little further, hands flat. "I don't need that, human. Don't you want to keep working? It's none of my business where you work, but... I'm going to be expecting that rent the third of every month, as agreed. Your lease lasts for twelve months, just like you signed."

He threw the contract onto the ground, glowering. "Take me to fucking court then. I don't know what you just did to me, what kind of hallucinogens are in the air, or... whatever it was. But there's no way a judge is going to think that is enforceable."

"A judge." Discord leaned forward, wrapping one willowy arm around his shoulder. He laughed energetically, shuffling up and down. "That's hilarious. You actually think I would trust your authorities to enforce my contract? Oh no." He bent down, scooping up the fallen pages and dusting them off. He turned them around to the last page, where he'd made his final signature. "I had no idea you were the kind of person who would so flippantly disregard their word! I would've suggested you take another few minutes to review what you were signing. But... you really should read it over."

He had half a mind to tear the pages and storm off down the street. But then he caught the "default and enforcement" section, and his body went rigid.

"Following the grace period of eight (8) days following a default, the leasee agrees to permanently forfeit their human body and submit themselves as a subject to the sole amusement of Discord, for a number of centuries equal to the number of months defaulted on the lease."

Tracy's mouth hung open, and he stared stupidly down at the pages in his hands. For a few seconds he wasn't sure what to say—he was almost as blinded by his own insanity in signing this as he was by the boldness of whoever had printed those words in ink. "Did I... Are you the Devil? But... I thought you weren't allowed to lie! You said there were no hidden fees! Just the rent!"

Discord's face split into a wicked, toothy grin. Even if he wasn't the Devil himself, he was sure doing a pretty good impression. "I told you there were no other costs, and that's true. You don't pay by living in Ponyville. The property is exactly as it was advertised online. You walked back through the door yourself. On this side, you're human. Over there... humans aren't really a thing anymore. It's no fault of yours, but I'm not going to make this any harder on either of us than it has to be." He snapped the pages out of his hand, folding them up and tucking them neatly into one of Tracy's pockets. "Just be a good little cog and do what you promised, and when the year is up, you're free to leave."

He walked away, back towards his car. "Or drive away and see what happens when you're eight days late on your rent." He flung the door of the strange limousine wide open, hopping inside. Then he rolled the manual window down, poking his head all the way across to look up at Tracy. "Oh, by the way. You'll probably want to find a laundromat on this side, there's no facility on-site. The electricity is... well, buy a UPS before you try and plug anything in over there if you don't want it to explode. Let's see, what else…? Oh, obviously your currency isn't going to be worth anything through the portal. I would love to convert it for you, but the portal doesn't like lies. It can't handle that fiat you all believe in. I guess you could bring over scrap gold if you want anything to buy on that side. Uh..."

"You're insane." He backed away from the open window, glaring. "There's no fucking way I'm staying here. I'm not getting drugged for your amusement. I'm going to... call the police! They won't let you get away with this!"

Discord rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. You're going to tell the police that you've signed a contract with a demon and now you turn into a pony." He laughed, sliding back over to the driver's seat. "If you do, remember to only bring one at a time through the portal. I don't think the human police would be terribly thrilled that you've permanently transformed them into ponies too. And without a contract with me, how could they possibly expect to be changed back?"

He started the engine with a twist of one hand, then sped away into the early evening, his laughter somehow louder than the ancient engine of the old limo.
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy stood at the edge of the road; his car keys still held in one hand. Whatever he'd thought about this being some secret plan to steal his organs or kidnap him into some bizarre human-trafficking scheme—vanished as the strange realtor retreated into the night.

It's obviously insane, right? It couldn't actually do anything. There was no such thing as the supernatural, no matter the form it claimed to take. Whatever he remembered must be a mistake.

He wandered a few steps closer to his car, taking each step slowly. He closed his eyes and tried to walk a straight line—and it came out perfect. Then he stretched out one hand, waiting for it to shake. But there was nothing there either, just perfect stillness. If Tracy was drugged with anything, it must be incredibly selective.

Or maybe just extremely fast to decompose. Maybe it's in the air in there, and it wears off a few seconds after leaving the house. That would explain how he could claim there was a 'portal.'

Tracy beeped the door to his car open, and tossed his backpack into the passenger seat. Obviously whatever the contract promised would happen to his immortal soul was insane. Even if such a thing existed, there was no way he'd actually encountered someone who could... do all those things. He was just one utterly uninteresting human of billions.

He climbed in, taking one look into the back of his car. Nothing—Discord hadn't left him so much as a sock. All “moved in.”

How hard could it be to go inside and grab the stuff I really need? I can't afford to buy all new clothes. Maybe he could hold his breath long enough to reach the upstairs bedroom. He just wouldn't touch anything, and obviously that would stop any drugs from affecting him. Get my stuff and leave. Call the police, report this lunatic. Simple. He’d have a good excuse for why he couldn't make it to HR, at least. “You won't believe the landlord I almost had.”

He slowed a little as he reached the doorway, still hanging open wide. He could see the hallway he remembered, with its little door with a stained-glass window at the far end. Sunlight streamed through it, and under the crack beneath it. Incongruous, impossible sunlight. And there could be a perfectly logical explanation for that. Maybe there's a lamp planted on the other side of the door, just making it convincing enough to lure me in. This doesn't mean I'm seeing something impossible.

Tracy took one last deep breath, then rushed over the doorway in a single, frantic moment. He needed to run if he wanted to have any hope of reaching his bedroom before whatever impossible substances still at work here could warp his mind.

It had no effect. No sooner had he crossed the threshold than he flopped forward onto the ground, unable to support his weight on his legs anymore. He landed on his hands—well, not hands. This time he wasn't blinded by confusion and unable to watch. In the passing of a single second, his fingers fused together, and his jeans became strange not-quite socks up his legs.





This time the disorientation wore off almost instantly—he was ready for the confusion, and everything that came with it. His hands pressed directly to the floor, he felt almost entirely naked, everything. Nothing reached out to grab him, and the door was still just a few steps behind him. Tracy banged into the wall a few times, stumbling forward and finally out the opening back onto the sidewalk.

Whatever he might've thought about drugs, he could feel none of the expected sensations. A few steps away from the door, and he'd completely shaken off the disorientation, and he was back on his feet. He held out one hand, still remembering what it had been like to have those fingers completely trapped only moments before. Just like that, I'm fixed.

His drug explanation was wearing thinner by the second. Psycoactives powerful enough to do that should have other effects. They should've taken suggestion; they shouldn't wear off so fast. But everything he knew was apparently just wrong. This is real. I've come up against something that shouldn't exist, and somehow it does.

Tracy darted over to his car, the door still open. He removed his backpack from inside, slammed the door, then headed back to the open door to the house. He tossed it across the threshold, gently so the poor computer wouldn't suffer for the impact. The instant it crossed, the bag changed. It split into two halves, with straps down the middle. But it still had the same stupid brand mark, the same puffy straps probably chosen for comfort on human shoulders.

Tracy backed away from the door, breathing in the almost-fresh air of this fairly cheap neighborhood. Even the faint odor of oil and cigarette smoke ought to be better than whatever was in the house to make him think the door did something supernatural.

Nothing happened to the bag. It remained in two halves, lying limply on the floor. He sat down on the curb, taking his phone in one hand, and set a timer. While he searched around the internet for any evidence of "Lancer Realty," he watched the occasional car pass by and the streetlights come on. Then he turned back around. Still he felt no suggestion that his own body was different. Hands and feet were right, fingers still had their full range of motion. Yet his bag remained saddlebags, limp on the floor.

There was no sign of the company he'd rented from, not anywhere. Craigslist didn't even have the listing anymore, nor was it on his viewing history in the browser. Maybe Discord did something to my phone while I was out? Even though he used a password and no biometrics, that would've been quite the feat.

This is real. It felt like admitting that the Earth was flat, or that he suddenly didn't believe in the effectiveness of vaccines. Yet how could he deny the evidence right in front of him? If this is real, how much of the rest of it could be too? What if I really did make a deal with Satan? It's so obviously impossible, but... what if it isn't?

Tracy stopped outside the doorway, sticking one hand across into the house. Nothing happened, except... a sort of gravity, wrapping around his wrist. He tried to pull it back, but just didn't have the strength. He flopped forward through the opening, and landed on all fours. He gasped, realizing in that moment the full consequences of exactly what he'd just done. He was a horse, standing in a doorway open to the world. People might drive past and see him. Or worse, his neighbors.

What if I just do this for a little while? I can pay the first month, use this as my address, and get HR off my back. It doesn't have to be permanent or anything. Maybe Discord is from their side, instead of ours. The locals might be able to tell me if his contract is good or not.

He reached out, and found the knob at exactly the right height to get a good grip in his mouth. He squeezed the knob between his teeth, then pulled the door closed. It latched with a strange finality, sealing him away from the world he knew. Yet it was still there—he could see the amber glow of the streetlights through the windows, and just make out his own car, distorted and stretched by the stained glass, but clearly present.

"I can't believe I'm indulging this," he muttered, making it a few steps forward and bending down to pick up the backpack/saddlebags. It was a struggle to get it on, but eventually he found a tab dangling from the back, and once he stepped on it the rest slid up his body easily. "I'm not staying like this," he told himself. "It's just about getting things through with HR." And finding out if I somehow sold my soul to the Devil without realizing it.

One day at a time, Tracy. He reached the inner door, and pushed it aside with his head. There was already someone waiting on the other side.

And of course, she was naked. 

Then she started screaming.




> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The screaming continued for long enough that Tracy’s ears began to ring. But however confused he was, it wasn’t enough to stand in place acting like an idiot. He looked pointedly away from the things he wasn’t supposed to see, fixing the other creature with an intense glare. “Look, I’m sorry if—”

She blinked, expression changing swiftly into a smile. As though he’d flicked a switch, and she hadn’t been bellowing at him moments before. “I’m sorry, I hope you’ll forgive my manners. I’m a little easy to startle, i-if you can’t tell.”

She approached casually, as though she wasn’t completely naked directly in front of a total stranger. Maybe this is a good thing. If I’m facing someone directly, then I don’t have to look at anything.

Tracy knew on an intellectual level that it shouldn’t feel weird at all. She was just an animal, right? It wasn’t like he’d ever felt vicariously embarrassed for farm animals, or the creatures of a petting zoo. But they never tried to talk to me.

“Y-yeah.” He retreated from her, until his rump was against the wall and he didn’t have anywhere else to go. “It’s f-fine, really. I was just—”

“Landlord said I should expect a new roommate,” she interrupted, clasping his hoof with both of hers and looking him over. It was hard to tell for sure, but it felt like she was staring at his… wings? Why was that so embarrassing? I’m not even supposed to have those! “I just didn’t expect you to come in through the back, he said I shouldn't go out to the vacant lot back there. Ooh, were you insect hunting?”

She flushed, letting go and covering her mouth. “Sorry, that’s probably insensitive. I shouldn’t repeat stereotypes.” She spun around, gesturing near the living room. There were several boxes there—the ones containing his gaming consoles and undersized television. “I guess you moved in during the night? Sorry, you’re probably just getting home from work or whatever. Do all bats work at night? No wait, that’s insensitive again. I’m sorry.”

Was Tracy’s mind going on him too, or did the horse seem just as embarrassed as he was? Like she was afraid of even a moment’s silence. I’m not going to look I’m not going to look I’m not going to look.

“I was, uh… just finishing my move-in,” he said lamely. But anything would probably help keep her from a nervous breakdown. “And yeah, I guess I am pretty tired.”

He walked past her, over to the front window. His last time in this room had been overwhelmed by many other things, but closer inspection proved he hadn’t been wrong after all.

“It’s daytime out there?” he asked, staring through the shutters. Hadn’t the sun just set? His mind reeled for a moment, trying to reconcile the evening he’d seen with what was obviously the light of morning.

“Uh… yeah.” She glanced briefly towards the kitchen, where something sizzled on a skillet. “I was just working on breakfast. And I probably shouldn’t let it burn, excuse me!” She darted past him, taking a spatula in her teeth and tending to her meal. French toast, by the smell of it.

Good thing I already ate. For all I know, eating anything here is like tasting anything from the underworld. One bite, and I can never leave. “I’m going to, uh…” He backed away again, towards the stairs this time. “I’m going to get some rest. It was nice to meet you, uh…”

She tossed the spatula aside, grinning back at him. “Roseluck! Sorry, I’d like to stay and chat. But I’ve got to get to work soon, and if I don’t eat I’ll end up snacking on the merchandise until lunch. Hopefully we can catch up later.”

“Y-yeah…” he said, finally turning for the stairs and darting up as quickly as he could. Which actually wasn’t very fast with four legs. He nearly tripped twice, catching a hoof and sliding along the wood.

At least the pictures online had been accurate. The upstairs had one larger bedroom facing the street—his, then a smaller bedroom and the shared bathroom on the other side. A bright rose was painted on that door.

Finally he got through the other side, slamming it shut behind him and slumping down to the floor with exhaustion. He remained there for a good few minutes, feeling his heart racing in his chest. This whole situation is impossible. I’m drugged, I’m hypnotized, I’m in VR…

All the rational explanations felt hollow to him now. His bare ass was on the carpet, how was he supposed to pretend he couldn’t feel it? So what do you do, Tracy? Give up now and go home? Give up your future?

More than just his future at Apex, if Discord was honest with him. Given everything else that had come true, that seemed like a safe assumption. Is it really that bad?

Tracy rose to his hooves again, moving cautiously to the open window. His disorientation faded a bit as he looked outside into the city’s entirely normal streets. An amber streetlight glowed through the slats, and a pair of headlights passed just outside. 

Oh god, what would someone think if they saw me through there? At least his landlord had done him the decency of closing the shutters while moving everything in.

The order of it all was almost insulting, each box precisely stacked and every loose article of clothing folded neatly. And… washed apparently, if his nose was any guide.

How will I know if I’m properly dressed in the morning, living here? His entire outfit had turned into a half-vest and some almost socks, covering nothing and only making him feel more naked.

One night, and I can get the form to HR. How long would it take to get mail here, a few days? Once I get the verification, I can sleep in my car. I don’t have to come back if I keep paying.

Work had a shower, a gym, and everything else an aspiring engineer needed to never want to leave. All he had to do was use the services they provided, and this could be a… an embarrassing secret he never shared and pretended never happened.

Alright, Tracy, you’re doing this. A week, it can’t take more than that. Then you live in your car for three months, and you keep paying for this place in the meantime. The Devil doesn’t steal your soul and you don’t live in horse town.

Tracy barely even cared about the bedroom itself, but it was nicer than anywhere he’d stayed since his mother died. No black mold on the ceiling, a decently-sized walk-in closet, and a fresh mattress. He stared for a few seconds at the label, eyes wide with amazement and frustration. The Devil ordered a fucking ghost bed. What bizarro-world had he been trapped in where any of this made sense?

He didn’t do much to unpack, just moved the boxes down off his bed and searched through a few of them until he found what he was looking for: his bedding. It smelled freshly washed like everything else, though nothing could be done for the holes in the sheets and the lifetime of mysterious stains in the quilt.

Doesn’t matter. I’ve still got the sleeping bag for the car.

He settled his backpack by the door, then glanced briefly at his toiletries. No, I don’t care about that either. He could brush his teeth at work.

Tracy slept restlessly that day, which he’d fully expected. Sleeping on his back just didn’t seem to work, but a lifetime of instinct prevented him from getting comfortable any other way. He heard his new roommate passing his door several times during the night. He did his best to ignore it, resolving to purchase earplugs the next day.

Eventually his phone started vibrating with his work alarm, and he jerked upright. Crap, I forgot to adjust that. Before today, he’d been sleeping in an empty lot a few blocks from work. I’m going to be late. 

He jerked out of bed, fumbling around in the groggy light until he found the outfit he’d left there—the same one he wore the day before, since he couldn’t be sure how anything else would work.

It wasn’t a simple matter of just slipping everything on—the vest was easy enough, but his stupid legs weren’t very cooperative. In the end, he had to resort to holding the sock in his mouth, pulling it down into place. It’s okay, nobody cares. You’re almost out of here.

He dragged the bag along behind him, not even trying to fight with the backpack today. He’d probably do something wrong, and it would come tearing off his back the instant he stepped outside anyway.

He held the stupid thing in his mouth, ignoring the unpleasant taste of half-oxidized rubber on the handle. It wasn’t quite so bad as “dirty socks,” anyway.

He stumbled down the stairs, nearly tripping twice on the smooth wood. He caught himself on lower floors only barely, holding himself in place with a narrow save with an extended hoof. Walking on four legs was awkward and stupid, but at least it was easy to stop from falling over.

He emerged onto the ground floor, turning to see three entirely naked people gathered around the kitchen table. They all turned to face him, and this time there were no screams of terror. 

“Daisy, Lily! This is my new roommate! Whose… name I just realized I never learned. Why don’t you meet my sisters, roommate!”

The window behind them was entirely dark, with a few flickers of orange visible beyond. It seemed what was true in one direction was the same in reverse—his world and horsetown were direct opposites to each other.

He dropped the backpack, which landed with an unpleasant thump on the polished wood. “Tracy,” he said in his pre-coffee voice. “Sorry, I… late for work. No time to talk.” 

How is everyone in this whole mad place naked all the time? Did I move in with a family of nudists?

“Oh, uh… bye then,” Rose said, her voice exasperated. “Have fun in the… vacant lot…”

Tracy ignored her, shutting the second door behind him, then practically galloping for the back. He stumbled out into the light, fighting back terror. What if it didn’t work, what if he emerged into the real world carrying his delusions with him? He’d be the Devil’s prisoner forever, unable to escape the nightmare.

His fears were in vain. He stumbled forward a few steps, and nearly fell over on his face. His mouth strained, as he struggled with the backpack his teeth didn’t want to lift anymore.

He kicked the door shut behind him, catching the bag in one hand and hurrying to his car. He’d still be late, but if he could get to work before the shift lead got there, he’d probably get away with it…
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roseluck stared at the closed door longer than she should’ve, feeling frustration stir in her chest. She was doing everything she could to be a good friend, and how was this bat responding? With coldness and apathy. It’s alright Rose, he just woke up. Not everypony is themselves early in the morning, or late at night. He’ll be better on the weekend, then maybe I can really get to know him.

“It would be a bat,” Lily said, after a minute of awkward silence. “You’re shameless, Rose. Don’t you care that they keep breaking your heart?”

She spun back around, glaring across the puzzle at her sister. It was quite a complex model this time, depicting a bouquet of flowers in ten thousand pieces. Moving them around for earth ponies was as much about patience and dexterity as attention to detail. Good practice for flower arranging, really.

But she was ready for this—she’d been expecting it the second she saw those bat wings. “I moved in first. It was a vacant room when I looked at the place.”

“Sure it was,” Lily repeated. “I believe that. And if you believe that, I’ll sell you some chrysanthemums that bloom during the snow.”

Daisy laughed along with her, but Rose only grunted, backing away from the table. “You saw him. It doesn’t matter how he looks if he’s going to act like that. I don’t know who he is. Haven’t even seen him in Ponyville before today…”

“He must fly to work,” Daisy suggested. “Maybe he’s a night guard?”

Lily pushed away from the table, rising too. The puzzle was barely started—at this phase, it would be easy to leave it behind without getting too attached. “If he was, he’d probably have swords and stuff, right? They wouldn’t fit in that bag he was carrying.”

“Don’t we have more important things to worry about?” Rose walked past her sister, lifting the heavy set of ledgers from under the table and dropping them beside the puzzle with a meaty thump. “These books aren’t going to balance themselves. Shipping me off to this place doesn’t make all the red ink disappear.”

“Or we could spy on your roommate,” Lily said. “We could dress it up! Say that we’re, uh… helping unpack! Yeah, we could do something nice, help him get moved in. And while we’re at it, you can see if he’s boyfriend material.”

Rose could take only so much teasing. She shoved Lily in the shoulder, hard enough for her to stumble for a moment. “Stop trying to set me up with stallions, Lily. We have a business to run, that means no time for distractions.”

But by then, she’d already lost Daisy to this incredibly silly train of thought. “We could still help him get moved in. Maybe you’d get credit on the house chores or something.”

“We haven’t worked out a system for—you’re already going upstairs.” Rose followed slowly, wanting to turn around and give up every moment. But if she didn’t restrain her sisters, they’d probably do something rash. Kinda like going through a stranger’s things without their permission. Just because Ponyville was a close-knit community with lots of trust didn’t mean strangers from elsewhere would feel the same way.

They’d already let themselves in, into a room that was somewhere between perfectly ordered and completely chaotic. Like a pony who knew they needed to take better care of things, but often lost track. It also smelled like bat stallion in here, in a way that would’ve embarrassed her into leaving immediately if she didn’t have company.

Then she saw what they were staring at. It wasn’t the smell that had fascinated them, but the wide picture window. Rose hadn’t ever bothered to open this door in her week since move-in, because it wasn’t her space. But now that she saw…

“Did Celestia move the sun while we were climbing the stairs?” Daisy suggested. She backed away, turning across the hall and pushing Rose’s bedroom door the rest of the way open.

The window was open, and the light of an early evening sky filled it. A single streetlight burned outside, and a few lone ponies remained on the street. Rose stood frozen, glancing between both halves of her house. 

“How is it night on one side, and day on the other?” Lily asked. “Is it another national disaster?”

The incredible strangeness of what they were seeing overcame curiosity, Rose’s sisters hurried past her back to the stairs. She followed, pausing long enough to shut the door behind her. There was no reason to make it obvious they were doing things they shouldn’t, if they weren’t going to dress it up like they were doing the new pony a favor.

She followed her friends into the living room, where they had an uninterrupted view out the kitchen window. To… night in Ponyville, exactly as it should be.

“That’s weird.” Daisy said. “It doesn’t look different down here. Maybe it ended?”

“Or it’s a bat thing.” Lily stopped inches from Rose, looking smug. “You’ve been with them before. Do bats have magic windows that make daytime and nighttime get swapped?”

“No!” She rolled her eyes. “That’s silly. Thestrals are nocturnal. Daylight would just make them sleepy. You wouldn’t want a magic window to make you think it’s bedtime when it’s time to go to work.”

She hesitated a moment, stepping back so that she was between them and the rear of the duplex. “There was one thing. The pony that leased me this place, uh…” Clearly knew how desperate I was and probably took advantage to sell me a cursed house. “Told me that I should never use the back door. Something about… poison joke growing in the vacant lot? I think that was it. But we’re never supposed to go that way.”

“Oh.” Daisy looked thoughtful. “Maybe nopony warned the bat. Having day and night swapped does sound like something it would do to a bat.”

Rose remained in place until she was sure that her sisters weren’t going to try and force their way past her and see what was out there. But it was a silly thing to do—the flower sisters were known for many things, but adventures and risk-taking were not one of them. A few seconds later and they’d forgotten about it.

“We should focus on the books,” Rose said, seizing on their distraction. “We have to figure out where we’re going to get next month’s ornamental bulbs, or we’ll miss out on the summer festival profits for the second year in a row. Neither of you want that, do you?”

Finally she’d gotten through to them. Even Lily returned to the table, groaning. “I guess… I guess not. We should budget or whatever. For the stand.”

“For the stand,” Rose insisted. They didn’t go back to the mysterious bedroom again.







Work could’ve gone better.
 
Tracy’s hopes of getting in before the supervisor got there were dashed when he arrived at his desk to find a frowning post-it on the screen. Nothing else—Janet just wasn’t the type to be more direct. But that note would mean a stern talking-to when it came time for weekly review.

I forgot to set my alarm properly, I was too busy being a horse. Yes please lock me up in an asylum somewhere and throw away the key. As tempting as it would’ve been to use the true excuse, he didn’t mention anything about the place.

Except to HR, which he visited late into the day. Late enough that even he could smell how awful his clothes had become. He couldn’t even run to the car for deodorant, since Discord had moved everything into the alien house for him.

“Got that form,” he said, handing it across HR’s desk. “Sorry about forgetting to come in sooner.”

She took the page, frowning down at it and scanning each field in turn. “Well, this seems to be in order.” She sniffed, turning up her nose. “They told you about office facilities on your first day, right?”

“Y-yeah,” he stammered. “Sorry.” He left before he could say anything else.

But despite how stupid he felt, he was still wearing the employee badge when he walked out of work. He climbed into his car, flicking the air conditioner all the way up—then remembering that it didn’t work, and rolling down the windows instead.

I’ve got the whole weekend to work this out now. I can move everything into the car I need, only visit the house when I need to pay rent. It’s okay.

A part of him didn’t even believe what he remembered from his previous night. The curious mix of real-estate magnate and landlord who was also the Devil just didn’t feel like it had happened to him. Obviously he wasn’t remembering correctly, that was all.

The house still looked the same from the outside, when he finally parked in front of it. Chinese takeout sat in the passenger seat beside him. He ate it there in the car, letting a more pleasant smell cover up the scent of unwashed engineer. I’m going to have to go in there eventually. Use the shower, get some clean clothes, and I’m out.

I’m not going to go completely insane because something insane happens to me. This isn’t Lovecraft. I can do this.

He finished the meal, walking his empty bag to the bin out front before making his slow way to the front door. He settled the backpack securely on his shoulders—mostly because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it himself—then opened the door and stepped through.

His hope during the workday—that he’d imagined everything in a fit of desperation and insanity to find somewhere to live—quickly proved false. He felt the same rush of motion, then his hands on the floor, then his tail hanging in the wind. Along with everything else back there. Because of course his memory of being naked was entirely accurate. 

The second door was still shut, which was probably for the best. It wouldn’t be good for those horses to find a way out into the city. He could only imagine the disaster that would cause. And given his luck lately, he’d probably find a way to be blamed for it.

I just have to make it upstairs. It’s okay. He pushed on the second door, and found the knob didn’t actually connect to anything. It was probably just there to make it easier for horses to grab them with their mouths. Disgusting. Can I use wings for that?

He’d barely even looked at them since this disaster began. Having wings was fairly low on his list when he was trying to not get his immortal soul locked in horse hell.

There was only one horse in the living room this time, the one who called herself “Roseluck.” By the look of things, she’d fallen asleep on a book, or at least surrounded by them. The kitchen table was a mess of puzzle pieces and ratty-looking paper. He winced, then pretended not to notice her and headed for the stairs. 

But there was no walking quietly when every step on the wood brought a clopping sound he couldn’t muffle. 

Roseluck blinked, sitting up as he reached the stairs. She looked around, then over at him. Her ears flattened, tail twitching in some way that probably meant something to an animal. But he didn’t know how to read it. “O-oh. Hehe… guess I stayed up working a little too late.”

“Know the feeling,” he said, without even slowing down. His day had been quite hard enough without inviting more from the horse-woman.

At least his bedroom was the same as he’d left it—a mess. He flicked on the light, then started digging through boxes until he found the toiletries. He gathered all that up, then hefted the towel and the bag of various soaps across the hall to the bathroom.

There was no lock on the door, because of course there wouldn’t be. But at least the sink had two taps, and there was a gigantic shower on one side of the room. Someone had thought it was a good idea to build a window in the shower, without blinds or curtains or privacy glass. It was just… right there, where the whole world would see him.

A shaft of orange light cut across the horizon outside, and the sun rose on an alien world.

Even Tracy was momentarily distracted from his sourness, staring up at the sky through the bathroom window. A little flight of horses passed high above, somehow pushing the clouds away in front of them. He squinted, wondering if his horse body needed glasses—but he wasn’t blind. They were flying, actually using those little wings. They’re flying.

He glanced over one shoulder, and felt a twitch from the thing that wasn’t quite an arm attached to a shoulder. Could he do that too, or were those just for show?

Don’t even think about it, Tracy. You’re not staying. Just get clean and get out.




> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy took over an hour to do what should’ve taken a few minutes. But while he still had all his soap and stuff, what he didn’t know was how to do anything without hands. He might’ve been completely lost, if his roommate hadn’t left her own stuff hanging in the shower for him to study.

Apparently little horses put things on sticks a lot, using their mouths to manipulate them. Even knowing that, Tracy resolved to use the showers at work as much as possible from now on. Having fur did not make this process easier. I’ll remember on Monday.

Everything was more complicated. He couldn’t just grab a towel, because he couldn’t really grab anything. After standing in the shower long enough that he’d started to dry on his own, he realized the purpose of the strange metal clips on the wall—he could secure his towel inside, then rub against it.

Why did these stupid things evolve? How can a civilization get smart without hands? It was an evolutionary mystery, one he lacked the expertise to solve.

And in special recognition of just how uncomfortable things were already, there was a window at head level that he had to face every minute, or else his simple act of sanitation would turn into a public display.

For a town where everyone was already naked.

Eventually he finished, emerging from the bathroom with dirty clothes clutched in his mouth. Here at least, being naked actually made sense. Though for him it was more not understanding any of his clothes and less not wanting to wear them. 

He crossed the hall without more embarrassment, and soon he was back in his little bastion of sanity, surrounded by his old boxes with a window that correctly transitioned from day to night. 

He tossed his laundry aside, then flopped into the bed. He closed his eyes and opened them again, as though the ritual could somehow restore reality to order and give him back his hands. But repeating it a few times all brought the same result: he really wasn’t human here, and doubting would not put things right.

I should probably try to get something done. In all the time since he’d embarked on this nightmare, he hadn’t even tried to get in touch with his friends back home. He should at least make sure they knew he was alright. There was even an Ethernet jack beside the desk. Maybe I should take up streaming in my spare time. Everyone would either think I’m an incredibly advanced animation, or the herald of the apocalypse. 

Considering his deal with the Devil, he couldn’t be sure the latter wasn’t the case.

Setting up the laptop wasn’t as hard as he’d imagined. It was quite a bit larger, which he guessed might be related to the way his clothes changed when he came inside. Or maybe it was just the size of these new bodies compared to the way he should’ve been.

But how can it tell the difference between a shirt and a computer? What are the rules to this thing, anyway? He knew one outfit would change reliably into a polo shirt and slacks, so he could probably make that same assumption safely about similar items of clothing.

He spent the extra few minutes fishing around for the rest of his gaming setup—really just a keyboard and mouse. To his surprise, they weren’t just larger, but completely changed. They reminded him a little of devices that might be made for the physically disabled. The keyboard was an opening for each hoof, with buttons activated by pushing the hoof in any of several directions.

The mouse was something similar, securing around his right hoof so that he could push it around with precision. The plastic was still the same, the brands were the same. I don’t understand what gets changed and what doesn’t. He could probably ask the landlord about it—but did he really want to invite that kind of contact? That creature was still threatening to condemn his soul to endless horse-based torment if he didn’t pay rent.

Maybe this place is trying to keep me here. Change my stuff so it’s usable, tempt me not to run away. Maybe this was Hell already, trying to lure him to complacency. All he had to do was give up and accept the world he was given.

He still logged into Discord and checked in with his old friends, even if he got some mocking messages about how slow his responses were.

“Yeah, I found a place,” he typed. “And there’s no fucking way you’ll believe anything about it. If you ever make a trip over here, I’ll show you.”

He got some guesses from Shane, about the awful quality of roommates or maybe something special the place provided, like a spa in the bathroom. He laughed off those answers, and refused to confirm.

You’re going to think I’ve lost my mind if I really tell you. And maybe I have.

He didn’t quite feel like gaming, even if it was the weekend. Getting ready for his plan of avoiding this place as much as possible felt exhausting in itself after a week of work. How much could he screw things up by taking a peek at his surroundings?

It’s not like I’m committing to actually stay here. It’s stupid not to know what’s on both sides. For all he knew, the natives of this place might be able to help him out of his predicament. Maybe he could ask Rose about it. Clearly she wasn’t another lost soul, or else she’d probably at least try to wear something.

He dug through a few boxes, searching for something less revealing to wear. Maybe some of his clothes had been spared whatever process changed the others. But after upending a few boxes, he’d succeeded only at making a mess. There were plenty of clothes here, and all of them looked like they fit.

But none of it would make him feel any less completely naked. 

Tracy chose a vest at random, not even bothering with the socks. Every horse he’d seen so far was completely naked anyway, so there was no sense trying to imitate clothes he’d wear on the other side. So long as he didn’t return to his world without getting dressed properly, there shouldn’t be any issue.

He emerged into the living room, ears alert and wings slightly spread. They weren’t exactly responsive to his commands, but at least they didn’t open all the way and make it impossible to walk anywhere.

The house was empty this time. The kitchen smelled like breakfast again, but the horse who’d cooked it was nowhere to be found. Because she’s probably at work. The day just ended for me, but it’s beginning for her.

It should’ve been a relief, but he couldn’t help feel a little disappointed. At least the one living with him would’ve been able to answer a few questions. If he wanted to go over to that side and investigate now, he’d be on his own.

Tracy approached the front door, slowing as he neared the window. He’d passed it several times now, but never really got a good look. Now he did, staring out at the world beyond and trying to make sense of what he saw.

It seemed like he was near the center of a small town, a town of truly ancient construction techniques. Of wood and thatch. The streets were cobblestone or dirt, and there was no sign of anything beyond basic infrastructure. A few poles he guessed were gas lamps, but that was all.

There were no cars in the streets, only more horses. Some of them were hitched to carts, but without anyone to drive them. Probably it was their stuff they were pulling. 

There were dozens of them, male and female in colors he’d never imagined fur could grow. His search for any that might’ve been more civilized was in vain—he saw a few hats, bows, and little accessories, but nothing like clothes.

They did have symbols, though. He’d thought those were tattoos at first, until he’d noticed the one on his own body in the shower.

He turned to one side, so he could see it reflected faintly back to him in the window. A pair of electrodes, with energy arcing between them. It seemed to grow right from his fur, without any disturbance to the flesh below. They must be natural. But what do they mean?

There was as little pattern to them as the explosion of colors and species these horses belonged to. There were at least four different types, possibly more he hadn’t encountered yet. But there didn’t seem to be any kind of caste system or other status divisions, at least not from what he could see through the window.

I could go talk to a few of them, see what’s going on. Maybe they’d know who Discord is, how I can get out of this deal.

It was probably a good idea, but going out into another world all on his own—Tracy was many things, but not much of an explorer. He didn’t need to see strange new worlds when he could watch Star Trek anytime he wanted on Netflix.

One hoof caught the door for a second, before he turned away. The mysteries beyond that door could wait a little longer—at least until he had a chance to talk to his roommate and figure out if it was safe. After that… he still might never go out there.

But it wasn’t like he wanted to completely burn the Friday night. He could go out into his city and do something, but you typically needed money to have any fun, and that was something he didn’t have yet. He’d burned so much just getting here that he didn’t have any left to go out to a bar and try to work out his boredom a little more productively.

And do what, bring a girl back here? Dammit, I didn’t even think of that.

Whatever, there were plenty of other productive things he could get done. Like… setting up the television? Even if he wasn’t going to be here very often, it would probably be nice to have it ready when he needed it.

He unwrapped the old blankets and straps with care, though getting the TV itself onto the empty table waiting for it in front of the couch was a little harder. In the end he had to use his back, wedging it carefully then standing to lift it. It would hardly be the greatest tragedy if it broke—it was just Walmart’s latest 42”, but he still wouldn’t be able to replace it for months. So there was plenty of reason to be careful.

But once he plugged it in, that perpetuated another series of issues. More strangely redesigned controllers, though at least that meant he’d be able to use the dumb thing. There was no cable, and he couldn’t stream without plugging in the Xbox. Which meant getting the router out of his crap and plugging that in, which meant making more of a mess in his room.

By the time he was finally done, he was beginning to feel the weight of exhaustion, and his tablet-sized phone he couldn’t easily use read midnight. But it felt like a terrible shame not to at least try to watch something.

He flipped through the dwindling catalog of Marvel films and picked one still available on Netflix, then struggled to get comfortable while the movie began. As usual, his body didn’t want to cooperate, and there weren’t even any models to copy. How had those others done it?

The door clicked, then swung open. Tracy looked up, blushing instinctively as the pressure of nudity returned—but sitting with his legs in front felt like he was trying not to look like a deviant.

Rose shut the door behind her, carrying a paper bag in her mouth. She went straight for the kitchen table, settling it down there before finally noticing him. Or noticing a giant purple man killing some dirty people in a spaceship, anyway. Then she screamed.
> Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lunch shouldn’t have been that exciting, really. Rose could’ve eaten at the stands with her sisters the way she usually did, but she wanted a little privacy. It was hard to stand out there selling flowers and listening to Lily completely ignoring the obvious signs of their ship sinking.

At first she was pleasantly surprised to see her new roommate was still awake, and that she might be able to learn a little more about him. Then she saw what was behind him, and was entirely overwhelmed. 

Screaming usually helped when something crazy happened—which was more often than not in Ponyville. Screaming got the attention of the authorities, and gave her a second to compose herself.

The bat had opened the large package they’d had sitting in the living room, and it was… something incredible. Possibly it was the most advanced bit of magic she’d ever seen, a far-seeing spell that showed… creatures, fighting and dying in perfect clarity. He really was a guard. He has some secret assignment from the princess, and he’s watching the enemies of Equestria from afar. 





“Sweet Celestia, we have to help them!” She hurried past her forgotten lunch, over to the side of the far-seeing spell. Its surface didn’t seem terribly magical to her, so it probably didn’t go both ways. Not that she’d want it to—she wasn’t the kind of pony who would go help. But Ponyville had some she could call.

The spell stopped, capturing the purple-faced creature in gigantic size and frightening visage. Like he was looking directly at her. The pony called Tracing removed his foreleg from a machine, then met her eyes. “No one is in danger.”

“What are you talking about?” She was hyperventilating now, gesturing urgently at the spell. “That thing just… hurt… whatever those are.”

He reached to the side, and the spell ended. The far-seer became just another flat surface, faintly reflecting the inside of the room. The bat rose to his hooves, watching her with—frustration? Why don’t you care? What kind of guard are you?

“This is a movie. Do you not have movies here?” He lowered his voice, but like most bats he seemed to think that his low muttering was too quiet for her. Unfortunately for him, she was still close enough. “Christ it’s like that train arrival thing from the eighteen-hundreds.”

That only confused her even more, but she didn’t question him. The bat had started pacing now, glancing between her and the television. “Look, I’m not sure if I’m allowed to… fuck it, why should I care?” More words that made no sense, though maybe he was just mispronouncing his vulgarity? That wouldn’t be very dignified and proper for a royal guard, even if he wasn’t on duty!

“I was just watching a movie. A… play. Do you have plays?”

She nodded. “You mean like… Briddleway?” She raised an eyebrow. “Sure, ponies put on costumes and… but that wasn’t a play at all! It was real!”

“No.” He settled down on his haunches, sighing deeply. She recognized that look too—like most bats, staying up during the day took effort from him. He was probably just staying up a little for the weekend. “It’s just a very convincing fake. It’s supposed to seem real, so you can enjoy the story more. But it isn’t. No one is hurt, and none of the stuff in it is real. Just pretend.”

That sounds an awful lot like what you’d say if you didn’t want to scare me. But it wouldn’t be polite to just call him a liar. She barely even knew this pony, there was no reason to suspect he wasn’t honest. Maybe she could invite him to tell the truth? “Why would you want to watch a play about creatures getting…” She swallowed, feeling sick. “Hurt? What a nightmare.”

The pony only shrugged, picking up the spell’s manipulator and settling it beside the enchanted view frame. “That’s not what it’s about, really. Movies are…” He shook his head. “I dunno, overcoming adversity? Cool special effects. It’s not about people getting killed. Okay, maybe this one is a little bit, but that’s because it’s about a villain trying to end overpopulation by killing half the life of…”

Rose backed away from him, eyes widening. Movies about… Tirek? No, worse. The purple thing wasn’t stealing magic, it was far crueler than that. “That sounds horrible. What part of Equestria makes… those?” She still wasn’t sure she believed him, but he hadn’t shown any of the usual signs of dishonesty.

“Nowhere.” He glanced towards the back door. “But thanks for telling me where this is. ‘Equestria,’ huh? Your country is a pun, that’s fantastic.” He turned for the stairs. “I’m going to bed.”

“Nowhere?” She followed him to the stairs, glaring up after him. And that was the only reason she followed him, there weren’t any others. “What does that mean, Tracing? They had to come from somewhere… everything comes from somewhere!”

Things were edging far enough into the esoteric that she felt out of her depth. She needed Lyra for this conversation. Or maybe her conspicuously competent fiancé. 

The bat stopped, turning towards her—and nearly falling on his face. He caught himself on the banister, flaring both wings instinctively. Like a foal, or somepony who had too much to drink. But he doesn’t smell drunk. “Tracy,” he declared, as though that meant something. “And yes, they do come from somewhere. The same place I come from, out that door.” 

He pointed towards the shut door to the back of the house. “My world, your world. I know, it’s fucking confusing. I’m still trying to process it myself. But if it’s any consolation, I probably won’t be sticking around all that much. Being a horse is confusing, and I wish people wore more clothes here.”

Rose was so stunned by his response that she hardly noticed his retreat. Soon enough he was back up the stairs, and she heard his bedroom door snap shut, leaving her alone.

My world, your world. The words echoed in her head, not wanting to stick.

But by the time she decided to argue, the bat was already gone. From as exhausted as he sounded, he’d probably be asleep soon, so she wouldn’t be getting any answers just now.

She should finish her lunch so she could get back to the stand, but Rose’s curiosity couldn’t be shoved aside quite so easily. Her roommate had just made a claim even more absurd than what he said about “movies.”

Rose slunk over to the second door, glancing around as though she expected somepony to be waiting there to order her to turn around before she could reach it. Her landlord had warned her against going back there—but she didn’t have to go outside, right? 

I’m just going to see if I’m living with a liar, that’s all. Look through the door, see that it’s the vacant lot, and I’m done.

Rose pushed the door open, staring beyond at the inner hallway. There was very little to see, just a drab tile hallway leading to a door. The window beside it was a little too fancy for the back of the house, maybe; stained glass instead of clear. Even so, what she saw beyond was enough to give her pause.

There was no sunlight streaming through that window, exactly like the bat’s bedroom window. The same spell? Or much more likely, it supported what he said. A different world. The bat doesn’t even come from Equestria.

There was only one way to be sure, though. Rose reached the door, took the knob in her mouth, and pulled it open.

There was no vacant lot outside, no field with hidden patches of poison joke. It was the landlord who’d lied, not her roommate.

It was the dead of night out there, and a strange coastal chill drifted through to make her shiver. Even orange light came from a towering streetlamp high overhead, along with a strangely black street as wide as anything in Canterlot. Massive metal objects sat beside the street, like predators resting until their prey returned with morning. 

Roseluck shut the door, then reached up to twist the deadbolt with her mouth. There was little reason to lock the door in Ponyville—if there was any crime, it was the kind of magical disaster that wouldn’t be stopped by a door.

The bat is from another world, and he’s living with me. She couldn’t have said if that made the aloof thestral more interesting to her, or just terrifying. Maybe a little of both? 

Rose hurried back across the second door, wishing she could lock that one too. I’ll ask him about it when he wakes up. Maybe that’s why he’s been so unfriendly—he’s new in Equestria. If he’s from somewhere as dangerous as that movie, he’s probably terrified of everything. I would be.

Rose took another look at the seeing spell, staring at the control device. Maybe she didn’t have to wait for the bat to wake up, if she could use the magic of his world to see it.

I don’t have time for this. The flower stand needs me. Rose’s curious new roommate and her lying landlord were both worth investigating—but there was the weekend for that, she didn’t have to do it now. Daisy would want her own time for lunch, and she wouldn’t get it if Rose just didn’t go back to work.

She ate quickly, but not quickly enough for her salad not to feel soggy with dressing. She ground her teeth together in annoyance at another salad ruined. Generally it had been stress that kept her from eating, as she poked at her family’s books to try and find some bits that just weren’t there. At least this time it had been something interesting. Terrifying, yes. But if Roseluck wasn’t at least a little interested in danger, she would’ve moved away from Ponyville years ago.

She tossed most of it, and hurried back to the stand as quickly as she could. There was no danger in Ponyville today, except for the danger that they wouldn’t be selling many flowers. So far, that fear was coming true.

“You took long enough,” Lily said, as Rose slipped under the canvas roof of the stall. “Getting to know your new bat a little better?”

“Got to hurry if you want to make Hearts and Hooves day,” Daisy added unhelpfully.

Rose glared at them both, stomping one hoof. If there were any customers out front, she probably would’ve restrained herself. But as usual, there weren’t. “That wasn’t what I was doing. He’s…” She hesitated. How much should she tell them? 

Anything she repeated to Lily would probably be halfway around Ponyville before the day was out. Did she really want ponies finding out she had the door to another world in her house?

Maybe the princess should know about this. Twilight would probably know what to do. But that seemed impolite—she should at least ask the landlord about it before going all the way to the princess. For all she knew Princess Twilight already knew what was going on, and some state secret was involved. That could be why she’d been given such a silly cover story, about dangerous plants growing so close to town.

“He’s what?” Lily skipped closer to her, leering. “Dark and brooding? Secretive and batty?”

“Those are stereotypes,” Rose said, stiffening. “And that’s not very nice. Besides, what’s ‘batty’ even mean? Just take your lunch break, sis. And instead of trying to play matchmaker, think of some ways to sell more flowers.”
> Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy spent his weekend as far away from his new apartment as possible, returning only when night came and slinking up to his room to sleep. It didn’t matter that figuring out how was getting a little easier (assuming he wasn’t just getting used to it). It wasn’t just about the discomfort; it was the principle of the place. Whatever demonic deal kept him living there, he would follow its terms as little as possible.

When Monday finally arrived, Tracy’s return from work brought the first real good news: the verification letter in his mailbox. He filled the thing out in his car, then stashed it in his glovebox for the next day. That’s everything I needed from the apartment. Where I live now doesn’t even matter, so long as I keep paying the Devil his due.

Would he really sleep in his car and eat at the work cafeteria for three months?

Yes, in fact. Goodbye horse curse. Goodbye insane roommate who thinks that Thanos is real. Enjoy your time in horse hell, I’ve just finished serving mine.

He didn’t even bother waiting until Rose would be at work to head inside, marching straight past her and up the stairs to his bedroom. It was still basically in cardboard boxes, which didn’t help the process. But he was too excited to care. He packed up his clothes first, enough that he felt confident no one at work would complain about the smell again. Toiletries, sleeping bag… what else did someone need to live out of their car?

He didn’t really bother trying to organize anything so much as he just crammed it into the bag as tightly as he could. He could always reorganize once he was settled in.

Tracy emerged from his bedroom dragging the bag more than carrying it. He didn’t even care that it had changed into a set of saddlebags and could probably be worn just fine on his back. He wouldn’t be back here, not until the nightmare of moving all that stuff when his contract was up. That was a problem for future Tracy, he wouldn’t dwell on it now.

Rose was still downstairs, slumped over a table scattered with papers and binders. There were bags under her eyes, as though she’d been working there all night and only his noise had startled her. “W-what?” She glanced between the bag and Tracy, confused. “Are you going camping or something?”

He nodded. “Yep. Extended stay automobile camping. Only the finest in illegal city squatting until this curse expires. Thank you for…” He shrugged one wing. “Well, you’ll probably have the place to yourself for a while. Hopefully a very long while. I guess that’s a good thing, right? More privacy, more house parties… whatever you’re into.”

He didn’t even wait for her response, turning for the inner door. A few steps later he was standing on the sidewalk, back on two legs. 

Tracy smiled to himself, satisfied. The Devil had tried to steal his soul, but the Devil could be beaten. Too bad he didn’t have a fiddle; the entire process might’ve been faster.

His footsteps slowed as he reached the front of the car, noticing something tucked under the windshield wiper that certainly shouldn’t have been there. Someone with as little disposable income as Tracy knew well how to avoid wasting any of it on things like these. Yet here it was—a parking ticket. One he certainly couldn’t deserve.

“Parking in red zone,” said the ticket. Apparently the last two inches of his bumper counted as “parked” in the red zone. He wanted to crumple the sheet and throw it away—but that wouldn’t actually help. They had all his information now, and it wasn’t like he was leaving the city anyway. Well that’s sixty dollars I didn’t need I guess.

He tried to force a smile as he got back in, jamming the ticket away in a pocket. He was free of horse-land, it was still reason to celebrate! Just because there were a few bumps on the road to freedom didn’t mean he shouldn’t enjoy the relief soon to come.

He settled into the driver’s seat, ignoring the vibration in his pocket. He could worry about whoever was texting him later. He was free. How do I spend my human Monday night? Really it was just about finding a place to sleep, since he had to wake up for work the next day. That auto shop hadn’t cared he parked nearby, maybe he’d go there again. Tracy twisted the key. Instead of starting smoothly, the engine made a sound halfway between a scream of pain and a thousand gear shafts dying. Half the warning lights on his dashboard all came on, flashing at random.

Dammit. Tracy slumped into the steering wheel, so much the hard plastic deformed. What did I do to deserve this? His mind raced through the implications—he’d need to uber to work, which would mean even less money. Then there was getting his car fixed, and the ticket… why did all of this have to happen at once?

Maybe I can fix it myself?

He finally pulled out his phone, which still had a text message waiting on screen for him. It wasn’t from his friends back home, or even any of the new ones he was making at work. This one was… from his landlord?

“Friendly suggestion: Read the 24th section of the lease agreement. -D”

“Friendly suggestion: go fuck yourself,” he whispered into the empty car. He wasn’t quite brave enough to type it. The Devil was already screwing him, the least he needed right now was to piss him off.

This can’t be related, right? He probably just wants to make sure I’m going to pay rent on time or something.

He spent a few minutes searching for the specific pattern of warning lights on his dash, without much success. The cellular connection had been fine before, but just now he wasn’t getting much of a signal. After waiting nearly two straight minutes for a YouTube video to start playing—only for it to go back to buffering a few seconds later—Tracy finally slumped back into the seat.

If he can doom me to horse town, he might know something about this. I should probably check just to be sure. It wasn’t anything specific, just an assortment of entirely disconnected bad luck. Right?

His backpack was here, since he’d be using it at work. Tracy fumbled around with the zipper for a moment, before opening the back and pulling out the crumpled sheets of the lease.

There on the second to last page, in print so small he had to squint, was the 24th section. “Agent is entitled to use any means to ensure leasee utilizes the property as their primary residence, with an escalating level of severity as infractions continue. General misfortune and entropic acceleration will gradually escalate to illness, dismemberment, loss of major limbs, disorientation, disfigurement, and general destruction of means.”

“What the hell?” he texted back, hands shaking. “You can’t do this!”

“I already have,” came the response, almost instantly. “You signed it. I don’t suggest trying to manipulate your contract in any other ways, Tracy. I’m free to manipulate whatever I wish; it comes with the occupation. If you want the protection of your contract, honor it.”

Tracy smacked his phone down into the empty seat beside him, taking several deep, slow breaths. Of course he wanted to defy Discord’s command and flee his apartment anyway. There had to be some way for him to escape, right? That stuff was probably just there to scare him. Loss of major limbs, really?

But considering every other power this demon wielded against him, was it rational to think that things couldn’t just keep getting worse if he tried to run?

I don’t want to live in there, but so long as I’m still using it as my residence, he won’t do anything to me. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. He just had to sleep there, and get his mail there. He could still avoid the apartment as much as he pleased.

He knew the instant I tried escaping. I really need to sit down and pick apart this contract. What else did I sign up for without realizing? But he wouldn’t sit out here and do it, or else things would probably keep getting worse.

Now I’m going to look like an idiot to that horse-girl. At least she was just a horse, so he didn’t care if she thought poorly of him. Obviously, because he didn’t.

Tracy groaned, then finally rose, gathering up all his crap and taking his short walk of shame back to the duplex. He hadn’t even locked the door, so it opened in seconds, a yawning maw opening wide to swallow his humanity whole. Yet sunlight streamed in from over there, almost painfully cheerful compared to the coastal smog on his side. I have to do a year of this.

People survived prison, didn’t they? They’d survived things even worse in some parts of the world. If they could do that without complaint, then Tracy could survive sleeping as a horse for a year. Either that, or declare a war I probably can’t win against a god.

He stepped through, feeling the strange rush as his body shifted down to four legs. It probably should’ve been an incomparable agony, changing that way. But whatever pain might’ve been expected, it didn’t come. And I don’t want it to start, do I? That contract did talk about loss of major limbs. In a way, that already happened. Every time he stepped through the door, he lost his hands, becoming basically crippled. Maybe he should do some research into how humans with a similar disability got things done.

Then he realized Roseluck was staring.

He hadn’t shut the inner door, after all. He hadn’t really cared what she thought, since leaving was his entire purpose. That meant she had a clear view straight down the hall to where he’d walked in from the world outside. She’d seen his actual face. At least she didn’t see me actually naked.

He spun back around, pulling the door closed and taking his time in locking it. He didn’t usually do that, but—maybe a little delay would stop her from screaming.

He turned, dragging the duffel bag back through the opening. “Car troubles. I’ll… have to call a mechanic, but they’re all closed already. Unless you know any good mechanics on your end.”

He stopped in the inner doorway, meeting her eyes with an awkward smile. Of course he didn’t really expect anything out of her, but asking was deeply satisfying anyway. Let her be the one to feel awkward for a change.

Roseluck stood, scattering papers from the table as she backed away from him. “I-I… you… outside…”

“Yeah.” He nodded over his shoulder. “That’s how the door works. I don’t want to call it magic, but I’m not sure what else it could be. Some kind of… Link Between Worlds.” He grinned, but apparently she didn’t care for references either.

“Oh.” She shivered, retreating a few more steps. “Y-you’re… you’re not a night guard?”

He shook his head. “God, no. What an awful job that would be. I might have gone to a crummy community college, but I still plan on doing more than that with my life.”

She turned, then darted for the door as fast as she could gallop. She didn’t stop to lock it on that side either—as far as he knew, that door didn’t even have a lock. 

He watched her go, then turned back to the stairs. He still had to get all his stuff back up. And maybe I’ll read over that whole contract before bed, just to be sure.
> Chapter 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roseluck had plenty of experience with terror. Ponyville didn’t really give her a choice about it—to stay was to see dangers that most ponies would only hear about in stories and see reenacted in plays. Compared to some of what she’d experienced, seeing through to the other side of Tracing’s portal wasn’t that weird. An alien creature, lengthy and strange from her distant view, with almost no fur and lots of extra clothing. In a way it made her feel pity for creatures that looked so unusual.

But how could she feel that when the odd being she’d seen lived with her. 

Every night when she came home, that alien would be in her house. Every time he stepped out that door, it would be back to that place of thin limbs and squinty eyes. Those were the same creatures on his Farcasting spell, except for the purple one. Maybe he was like Nightmare Moon?

Rose hesitated in her gallop, as fear was replaced with the knowledge of just how many eyes were on her. She could feel them in every direction, watching with confusion and possibly growing fear of their own. Ponies had herds for a reason—a crowd was always better at sensing danger and reacting than any one of its members could be on their own.

She slowed, smiling stupidly at everypony watching her. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to cause a scene right here, screaming about an alien attack. So far, Tracing hadn’t done anything remotely hostile, just been a little unfriendly. And he has that Farcasting spell that shows terrible things. He’d denied being a night guard, but maybe that was just a question of names. He hadn’t seemed to understand what it even meant.

At least nobody stopped her to demand what had happened. Maybe she’d managed subtle enough that she could brush this off. It’s probably nothing. But after every terrible thing that had happened to Ponyville, she couldn’t be the weak link that allowed danger into her home. She had to tell the proper authorities, just in case.

She couldn’t just ditch the stall without warning her sisters about it, though. She slowed as she approached the worn wooden shack, slipping under the curtain. “Lily? Daisy?”

They were both already here, preparing flowers they’d foraged from the White Tail Woods earlier that morning. It was what they did when they were truly desperate, and there wasn’t enough of their own produce or enough bits to buy from suppliers. A sign of the dire straits they were in.

“What?” Lily dropped her trimmer, turning towards her. “You aren’t that late, Rose. Didn’t have to gallop all the way.”

She winced, taking another few steps into the stall and lowering the curtains closed behind her. “I have to tell you something important. About Tracing, the bat living with me.”

Daisy squealed. “That wasn’t even two weeks, Rose! You’re so naughty.”

“I’m—” She was caught so completely off guard that her mouth just hung open. For a few seconds she could say nothing at all. A gnat nearly flew into her lips, until she finally closed them, shaking her head. “No, it’s not that at all.”

“It better not be.” Lily didn’t seem so excited about the news, more annoyed than anything. “Because it sounds like you’re about to waste our time with something we don’t need to know. It’s great you’re in a relationship. We just wish you picked stallions who might be better for you, instead of… whatever Tracing is.”

“We’re not dating.” She stomped one hoof, loud enough that creatures outside the stall could probably hear. She winced, then moved in closer to both of them. “You know how weird that house was? Available right when we needed it, charging the perfect amount for our budget? The landlord seemed a little weird, the contract was such a tangled mess it didn’t even make sense…”

“Yeah.” Lily turned back to her work. “What does this have to do with your stallion? He moved in after you, right? That was your defense earlier.”

“I think there’s…” There was no way getting around it. She had to tell them. “Instead of a back door, there’s a portal to another world on the back of the house. That’s why the light was weird. And it gets worse. I’m pretty sure Tracing is from that side. He’s living in Equestria, but he’s not even a pony at all! He’s… an alien! Weird and stretched and…” She struggled for a word to describe his Farcasting spells, before eventually settling on “Magical.”

Lily groaned. “So he didn’t want to go out with you?” she suggested. “And now you’re rationalizing.”

Rose smacked her with a hoof. Not hard, but hard enough to get her attention. “I’m serious! There’s really a portal attached to my place. There’s a dangerous world on the other side where a purple monster wants to hurt dirty people.”

Daisy watched her, as uncomprehending as ever. She seemed about to say something stupid, the way she usually did when she couldn’t make sense of what others were talking about. “You should talk to Bon Bon. She always wants ponies to report things to her if they see anything strange. She’ll listen, might know what to do.”

At least she wouldn’t be hard to find. Bon Bon worked for the Cakes, making sweets in their attached bakery. Rose could probably let herself in to talk while she was cooking, and nopony would even need to know about their conversation. “I was going to go to Princess Twilight, but… that might be overkill. If I go to her now when nothing is really happening, and later something does, she won’t want to listen.”

“Good idea,” Lily said, exasperated. “Talk to the baker, not the princess. The stall already has enough trouble without an Alicorn mad at us.”

“I won’t be gone for long,” Rose said, backing up the way she’d come. “I want to ask her before things get too busy. Open for me?”

“This better be real!” Lily called after her. “If it’s just an excuse not to do your shift!”

But she was already gone, rounding the corner towards the bakery.

There was no sign that the city was under attack, no other ponies running in terror. No buildings on fire… everything seemed fine.

She didn’t go to the front of the building, though she was a customer there often enough. Instead she walked around to the back, where she knew Bon Bon would be working. She woke up very early, doing most of her work before the sun came up. Sure enough, she could smell something sweet rising from the building, and she slowed a little, appreciating it. Lemon, probably sweets for the Equinox festival. She might have to buy a few later, if she could spare the bits.

She knocked once, then opened the door. “Bon Bon? Are you here?”

The space was a strange mix between disgustingly dirty and perfectly sterile. Dirty with flour and sprinkles and open containers of sugar. Standing in the middle of it like a tactician was the mare she’d been looking for. “Yeah?” She tossed a worn recipe book back onto the table, looking up. “What’s up, Rose?”

They weren’t close, exactly. But living through so many little disasters did have a way of bringing ponies together. “Just… I’ve heard you might know what to do if something bad was happening. You might… understand more than the rest of us.”

She raised an eyebrow, watching suspiciously. Even so, there was no sign of rejection from her yet, no disbelief. “Is something in particular going wrong? And… is it just for you, or more? I’m not quite done with the shift, but… if it’s personal, we could talk about it when I get off.”

“No, it’s not…” She winced, taking a step closer and pushing the door closed behind her with a leg. “It’s about… well, I guess I’d file it under ‘unexplainable magical phenomena.’ Or… I dunno.” She went through the story of how she’d ended up at her new place, brushing over how desperate she’d been and how stupid it made her. She didn’t have to make herself into a complete idiot in her own story. 

“I knew there was something wrong with the house. The windows on opposite sides always had, uh… different times of day. I thought it was an enchantment before, but now I’m sure it’s… a different kind of enchantment. I think one side of the house is in Equestria, and the other side is somewhere else. Somewhere really scary.”

“Because of the windows?” Sometime during her explanation Bon Bon had produced a notepad, and she scribbled little details with a pencil. She hadn’t interrupted until then, and seemed to be listening seriously. “You don’t think a light spell is more likely? They aren’t hard to cast.”

“I guess they aren’t, but… look, I thought it was something like that too, at first. But then I saw the back door. It just opens, right into another world. With weird houses, and huge metal machines speeding past so fast they could really hurt somepony if they walked into them. And that’s not even the worst part.”

She lowered her voice to a whisper now, though there was no chance of the two of them being overheard. There was nobody to listen, and the bakery beyond was fairly loud with conversation and customers getting their morning treats. “A new roommate just moved in, from that side of the door. I saw him come through, all… stretchy and tall. And he’s got magic I’ve never seen before. I’m worried… do you think it could be another invasion?”

Bon Bon didn’t mock her, didn’t even smile despite the strangeness of her story. Once she’d finished, she set down the pencil, looking thoughtful. “This, uh… this alien. Did it wear lots of clothes, not have any fur, and stand on two legs?”


“Yes!” she exclaimed, relief and vindication flooding through her. “That’s exactly what he looked like! Pulled out, thin limbs, tons of clothes, only fur on his head…”

Bon Bon settled a floury hoof on her shoulder, then blushed and pulled it back hastily. “It’s probably not an invasion, then. The world you’re talking about…” She frowned, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t talk about it. But the princess knows about it, okay? I hadn’t heard anything was happening in Ponyville, but… I’ll ask about it, keep you informed if you need to do anything. But before you go, does it seem like your roommate is dangerous? Has he tried to hurt you?”

“Well… no. He’s barely even talked to me. A little rude, now that I think about it. He’s lived here for almost a week and I barely know his name.”

The mare shook her head again. “That’s probably a good sign. If he was overly friendly, it might mean he was trying to get something from you. Something like the Canterlot Invasion. But if he is a spy, he’s not doing a good job if you ran straight to me. I’ll look into it, and in the meantime you let me know if he ever hurts anypony. Otherwise… that world isn’t as dangerous as it seems. You shouldn’t go there—but the creatures living there aren’t out to hurt everypony. This isn’t Tirek all over again.”

“Thanks.” Rose retreated, brushing the flour from her shoulder with one hoof. “I, uh… thanks for letting me tell you about it. Do you know anything else about the place on the other side?”

She shook her head. “My fiancé does. Lyra will talk your ear off about the exchange trip she did for the princess last year. But be warned, don’t start her on it if you ever want her to stop.”

I might have to. Tracing might be the first soldier of an invasion, living under my roof. And Lyra is the only way for me to find out more.

Unless she could get Tracing to talk. But as important as it was to save Ponyville, saving her own business was just as important. She should probably get back to the stall before her sisters started to panic.

More than she already was, anyway.
> Chapter 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy’s next few days proceeded about the way he expected. Now that the pressure of HR on his shoulders had faded into the backdrop, he could focus much more on the simple task of just getting work done and impressing Janet. He already had a little ground to make up after that initial disappointment, but it didn’t feel beyond his ability. So long as he didn’t let his mind wander too much to the world he had to live in at night, he could work without too much difficulty.

Other than the additional financial strain of getting his car looked at, and paying for a stupid ticket. If there was one small mercy, it was that there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the car. He was out the price of a tow and the investigation, but that was all.

The job itself was supposed to be the dream of a lifetime, and the paycheck certainly would be. But no matter how much he wanted to be completely devoted to it, Tracy found it hard to banish thoughts of the parallel world he now lived in. First it was simple resentment against the demon Discord, for trapping him in a contract that could sense his very intention to skirt the rules. Then the residents, for being so loud downstairs when he was trying to sleep. Roseluck, for tensing and going quiet whenever he walked into the room.

At least I don’t have to worry about thinking she’s pretty anymore. If she’s afraid of me, I can keep my privacy, and fight whatever brainwashing Discord does when I’m in there. Maybe that was part of the trick all along—nothing to do with eating the food of the underworld, but getting involved with the people there. Under that friendly exterior was a world filled with demons that never wanted to let him leave.

But past all that, past the resentment and the frustration, Tracy was still curious. Through connections too tenuous for anyone to sense, he now had direct contact with another world. It had its own culture, its own wildlife, its own dominant species, and he knew almost nothing about it.

For the first week, that thought festered under his devotion to the internship and the lack of any force trying to drag him away. Apex had plenty of interesting projects to capture his attention, even if an intern like himself was usually shoved into whatever role the actual employees wanted least. But instead of daydreaming of a future where his bills paid automatically and he could eat wherever he wanted, Tracy kept thinking back to the house that shouldn’t exist and the world it existed in.

It doesn’t mean I’m giving in to the demon if I take a look around. I’m taking advantage of my situation, I’m being smart. If there’s a way to turn this around on him somehow, it’s probably on that side. Maybe the work was entirely necessary, because gold was incredibly common on that side, and he could trade chocolate for it or something. He could make millions as a ferengi trader.

There was one major obstacle to that goal, just how misaligned their time seemed to be. Through cosmic coincidence—or more likely, demonic design—Earth and Equestria seemed to be exactly twelve hours apart. When his day ended, the Equestrian day began. He could probably take advantage of that fact, at the cost of a little tiredness at work.

He wasn’t sure exactly what he was supposed to do to prepare—but maybe there was nothing anyone could do. As far as he knew, he was the first human being to ever set foot in another world. Maybe this would all end better than expected, and he would end up with his name in a history book somewhere. 

So far as he could tell, there was nothing in his contract banning him from trying to share everything he’d seen with the world. He could write a book about it, start a YouTube channel, whatever people did to get noticed.

But before he could think about any of that, before he could come up with a plan for not getting institutionalized after coming out with a completely insane story, he first had to learn more about his new prison.

He shut the inner door behind him on Friday evening, a little earlier than he usually got home. He’d skipped the trip for takeout, and sure enough Roseluck was downstairs fixing breakfast. Or… eating it, anyway. Apparently Equestria had cereal, and she was feeling lazy. I should really check out the kitchen when she’s away, see what these horse-people eat.

“Hey, uh… Rose. Can I call you Rose?” He settled his backpack down, facing determinedly away from her. At least this way it would mean he wouldn’t be displaying so much of what the clothes didn’t cover. Tracy also didn’t wait for an answer. “I was wondering if you could give me some advice, about where to go in… Equestria?” He glanced nervously at the door, then back to her.

For her part, the horse-girl stared up at him, eyes widening. It seemed almost like she’d been expecting him to ask this. Was this related to why she’d become so quiet and cold lately?

He still didn’t stop. “I’ve wanted to see your country since I moved in, and I haven’t had a chance. Maybe you know some… spots I should visit?”

Her eyes narrowed, and she pushed her overflowing binder aside. Over the last week she’d clearly been trying to organize her papers, without much success. “You want to casually visit military bases, magical defenses, and government buildings?”

His eyes widened, confused. “What? No! Hell no do I want to go anywhere near your military. Just, like… a park, a landmark, maybe a restaurant. Though I’m not really sure about money. I don’t think you’ll take what we use.” 

He turned, fishing around in the front flap of his backpack and pulling out the wallet. Aside from being a little too large for him, it looked exactly the same as he pulled it out, flipping it open to reveal the plastic inside. “Do horses take credit cards?”

She slammed the binder closed, then rose to her hooves, breakfast forgotten. “We use bits, just like any sane creatures. What kind of money is that?” Her suspicion was momentarily replaced with confusion as she poked at one of the cards. 

“I… Nevermind. I guess forget about the restaurant idea. Maybe I’ll…” He looked away, frowning. “Discord said something about taking gold to a currency exchange. I guess that’s what I’ll have to do if I want any of your money. Unless you wanted to do something simpler and just trade.”

But whatever he’d said, it wasn’t the right thing. Roseluck’s mouth hung open, and her lips formed the same word, repeated over and over. He didn’t have a prayer of guessing what it was on a pair of horse lips. Maybe if she’d been human he could understand. “Look, whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that. I just want to see what your food tastes like. That’s… one of the things you’re supposed to do when you’re a tourist, right? Everybody eats, so it’s one of the things that unites us.  New recipes, new culture… I just worry that I’d feel like I missed out if I didn’t try it now.”

For a second he wondered if he’d just broken Roseluck’s brain completely, and she wasn’t going to respond at all. But then she nodded, expression bleak. “There’s, uh… food, right. Let me…” Suddenly she broke into a grin, so wide he almost started feeling suspicious. “We could do that! Tour of… well, not all Equestria. You’d need to pay for an air-cruise or something to do that. But I could show you around Ponyville. I have a friend who works at a bakery, they’d give us free lunch no problem. We trade them flowers for their tables, so…”

“Great,” he said awkwardly. “How about a week from now? Is that too soon?” 

She considered, glancing nervously back at the binder. Then she shook her head. “No, not at all! I’ll ask her today, and… I’m positive she’ll approve.”

“Perfect,” he said, retreating. “Thanks. I’m… well, I’m sorry I haven’t tried to talk more. It’s… I’ve never been very good at making new friends. Least of all when they’re…” That probably wasn’t the kindest thing to say, and he shoved it aside. “This isn’t my world. I don’t really know what I’m doing here. Even if I won’t be sticking around, I… appreciate the help.”

Somehow that got her attention. Though this time it was confusion instead of horror, at least if he was reading her expressions right. “You’re not staying? This isn’t… You’re not a scout for something?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Just trying to last through my contract. I knew the bastard was slimy, but… Discord has me staying against my will. Still… wrong of me to take it out on you.” 

She left then, wandering out the door with one last glance in Tracy’s direction. It was strange for her to leave the kitchen a mess, or leave her books out like that. She was always so self-conscious about whatever she was writing. 

He waited a moment to see if she would return, then casually approached the table and pulled over a loose sheet. He didn’t expect to be able to read it, but then he probably shouldn’t have been able to understand their spoken language, and he could do that.

There wasn’t much to understand. It was an accounting spreadsheet, or the fragment of one. Amounts of… flowers, if he remembered those names right. He’d probably heard the names of each once or twice over the years. So strike off the theory of entirely alien biology for this place. The horse-people might not look very much like horses, but apparently they had the same plants.

Or maybe the translation was arbitrary, and the names of plants he knew were chosen at random for life that the human mind could scarcely comprehend.

There was a lot of red ink on the bottom of the page. If this was some kind of sales manifest, clearly the sales weren’t going well.

Is Roseluck a horse version of what I am, someone desperate with nowhere else to go? 

He pushed the page aside, ears flattening with embarrassment. It was none of his business really, any more than he would’ve wanted her playing with his TV after not understanding what a movie was. 

Tracy made his way to the window, closer than he’d been since his first day. He stared out at a place that shouldn’t exist—streets hundreds of years in the past, buildings that weren’t much better. Yet he’d always imagined people in the past as dirty and sick, and the ones outside didn’t look either. Actually, one of them was heading right for the door.

He winced as the gray horse landed on the path, skidding a little on her hooves and nearly falling over. She righted herself despite the weight of her bags, then marched straight up to the door and knocked.

There could be no pretending he wasn’t here, not with the window right there and her face grinning at him only a few feet away.

This is a warmup, it’s fine. I already live with one of them, I can talk to a different one.

He walked slowly, then bent down and pulled the door open with his mouth. It was a little awkward thinking of all the other horse mouths that had been on it, but he managed.

“Hello!” the horse said, smiling brightly at him. She wasn’t quite looking at him, now that he thought about it. Her eyes didn’t focus. “Are you, uh… Tracy Maxwell?”

He blinked, utterly baffled by the question. Then he nodded. “You actually said it right. My roommate never does.”

She giggled, holding out one hoof with a letter. Of course that only made her look more adorable, right down to her silly vest and mailbag. “I get a lot of hard names delivering mail. Yours isn’t that bad.”

How is she holding a letter like that? We don’t have fingers.

Tracy wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to take the letter, so he settled for just grabbing it in his mouth and settling it down on the windowsill beside him. She didn’t seem to mind that, or even think it was strange. “Have a nice day!” she said, turning and taking off the way she’d come.

After he’d finished blushing, Tracy shut the door behind her, and turned his attention to this new strangeness. A letter for him? From the wrong side of the house?

He nearly crossed back to his side to read it, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to do that too often. Sooner or later someone was going to see a horse walking out the door and call animal control.

The letter looked surprisingly official for something dredged up out of horse town. Or… Ponyville? Wasn’t that what Roseluck called it? There was a fancy sun-and-moon seal printed in the corner, and his own name and equestrian address in the middle. Actually, if those symbols were a stamp, it was so similar to the way things worked on Earth that he might’ve been able to mail it as-is. 

Inside was a thick bundle of legal-looking writing. Most of it didn’t make sense to him, though he did stop to read the first line of the beginning.

“Tracy Maxwell, by order of the Equestrian Immigration Service, your application for residency visa has been approved.”

He skimmed the rest of it, but there wasn’t a lot to see. Just more confirmation of how approved he was to be there. I guess that’s good. I won’t get horse deported. But who had sent that in? More importantly, did that mean Equestria knew more about his world than the other way around? If there was procedure for an alien living in one of their towns… maybe they weren’t as primitive as a few glances out his window suggested.
> Chapter 11
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roseluck turned the binder over in front of her, trying to make sense of the records she was collecting. The flower stall wouldn’t be in this state if only they’d understood how bad things were getting. The trouble was, Rose and her sisters liked growing and arranging flowers, not so much the organization that went with it. One little budget shortfall and the next thing they knew they were selling their house and renting space in the cheapest places they could find. 

She rose, dumping the entire thing out on the table in frustration. Maybe if she saw everything, she would be able to discover some secret path through to saving her family business. But no matter how hard she looked, the only pattern she found was bankruptcy.

On the other side of the inner door, metal rattled in metal. Tracing was back, back from his time-mismatched world for his tour of hers. 

If it wasn’t for the danger he represented, Rose probably would’ve called off the whole thing. But even more important than her family’s old flower stall was the safety of Equestria itself. In some ways, she might be the mare standing between everypony else and total destruction.

Take a few deep breaths, Rose. You can do this.

She winced at the state of the table, but there was no cleaning it now. Her resident invader would want to get out and see the place he’d come to conquer, and she would have a surprise in store for him.

The inner door opened a moment later, and the bat pony emerged. Except… he wasn’t really a bat, despite appearances. If only there was some magical switch in her brain she could flip now that she knew this bat wasn’t what he seemed. Problem was, the danger didn’t make her want to run away. 

“Hey Rose.” He tossed his strange saddlebag up against his boxes and the Farcasting spell, sighing with relief. “Remember what we talked about the other day? Are you still going to give me the tour?”

She nodded, maybe a little too quickly. “My sisters know I’ll be catching breakfast before heading to work, so we can go right to the bakery. Everypony I know loves Sugarcube Corner, so… I’m sure you’ll like breakfast there too. Unless it’s… dinner for you? But there’s nowhere serving it right now.”

He shrugged one skin-covered wing, ambivalent. “Whatever, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Who doesn’t like bread, right?”

She watched him skeptically, waiting to see if he was making fun of her somehow. But there wasn’t any in his scent, only exhaustion and a little fear.

Do you suspect I’ve figured you out, Tracing? You shouldn’t have let slip you were working for Discord. Now everypony knows your game.

But if he suspected, he was too proud to give up and run. “Great. We can head right out. We don’t have to worry about the rush, I think my friend is going to get us a table in back. That way we don’t have to worry about the line. It’s kinda crazy first thing in the morning.”

Tracing nodded absently at the suggestion. “I’m just glad to have some company stepping out that door. There hasn’t been anything stopping me from going out there these last two weeks, but… I just haven’t been able to do it. Might be dangerous out there. I guess you… probably think the same thing about the back of the house.”

She shut the door behind them, not even trying to gather up the books. Their records were already so far behind that another day wasn’t going to make a difference.

For an invader, he didn’t seem to know what he was invading. Tracing’s eyes went wide the second they were out the door, staring at everything from random houses to the city hall building just down the street. He seemed to be on the edge of asking questions about literally everything he saw, but resisted. He doesn’t want to make it too obvious. He’ll find out we know soon enough.

“How many types are there?” he asked, after looking like he might just explode from the effort of keeping silent. “Like… I see there’s lots of different ones. How different are you, anyway?”

Rose just stared back, utterly baffled. What was he even talking about? She thought about asking that, but then he supplied his own answer a few moments later, and resolved any confusion she was feeling. “I’ve seen at least three types, but maybe there’s more? You’re one type, without any extra bits. Then there’s ones like me, with… these things.” He stretched out a wing, staring at it like he might a fat bug perched on his side. “And I’ve seen at least one or two with face bones.”

Rose stopped in her tracks, and nearly smacked herself in the face with a hoof. “You mean the tribes?” She relaxed, momentarily forgetting about her mission. Ever since the friendship school opened in town, this question came up more and more. Ponies were the only creature with so much variation, so far as she knew. Griffons and hippogriffs and minotaurs and yaks all had basically the same blueprint. Maybe dragons, but the only dragons Rose had ever seen around looked basically the same too. 

“Oh, I… guess so?” He tilted his head slightly to the side, thoughtful. “Where I come from that would mean more a… political difference. But I guess it could be ethnic too. Clearly your ethnicities aren’t color related. I can’t tell any rhyme or reason to the way you look.” He held out one leg, staring at the dark blue fur. “We look?”

He wasn’t making any sense. What did colors have to do with anything? Well, bats were usually darker, maybe that’s what he was getting at? He didn’t understand what it meant, because he wasn’t really a pony at all. And wasn’t even really trying to hide it, either. You aren’t a very good invader.

There was a time when simply being new in Ponyville would’ve attracted stares and probably a welcoming celebration by the resident party planner. But now she was busy helping run Equestria, and the school brought in so many new faces that one more was just another in the crowd. At least that meant she didn’t look ridiculous talking to him in the middle of the road. 

“A few years ago, we used to think there were just three tribes, but really those were just the biggest. Pegasi with wings, unicorns with horns, and earth ponies with strength. I’m one of the last ones.”

“And that makes me a pegasus?” He extended one wing, visibly shaking as he did so. The task seemed to take great concentration, and he didn’t look away while he moved it. “And we actually fly with these?”

“You’re not, no.” Where were the covert questions about their magical weaknesses and the protection spells on their cities? Instead, he didn’t even know what he was, or the basics of bat pony magic. “You’re a bat pony. Wings, fangs, ears, eating bugs… it’s all pretty obvious.”

“I don’t eat bugs!” he snapped, sounding genuinely offended by the prospect. “I ate a scorpion once, but that was for a dare. I wouldn’t do it again. So… crunchy and gooey. But that makes sense. Bat, pegasus, unicorn, earth. Doesn’t sound very fair to you, if I’m being honest. But I guess life never is.”

The more he talked, the more confused she got. Roseluck nudged him to start walking again, which he did after a little more pressure. Maybe he’s realized what I’m doing, and he’s trying to distract me, so he won’t have to face justice. It won’t work, Tracing. “There are also crystal ponies, and other creatures that are close to us, but not quite ponies. Hippogriffs and changelings both have a lot in common… oh, and Alicorns. Princess Twilight, Princess Cadance, Flurry Heart… they’re not a tribe, but they are ponies.”

Sugarcube Corner was coming into view. As she’d predicted, he was too ignorant about Ponyville to realize it wasn’t exactly a sit-down restaurant. A table in back, hah! He’d actually believed it. He didn’t notice as she steered him towards the back of the building.

“That’s a lot to remember,” he finally said. “Sounds a little scary to me, to be honest. If I lived down the street from someone who could fly… I dunno. There’s already enough danger in the world without superpowers.”

She nearly stopped again, demanding to know what he was talking about. But she resisted, just hurrying to the side-door and pulling it open with her mouth. There was indeed a single table in there, already set with four places. This time they didn’t have to hide—apparently the Cakes had been informed. 

“Wow, you weren’t kidding.” He didn’t suspect a thing, walking right past her over to the table. “Backstage breakfast treatment here at…” He glanced at something off to the side, poking out of a pocket. “Almost eleven. That sun is going to crosswire my brain before I get out of here, I swear.”

“You must be Tracing,” Bon Bon said, emerging from around the corner. A second later and the door shut behind them. Lyra grinned mischievously, though she remained silent.

“Tracy,” he corrected. “Tracy Maxwell, I’m not sure what’s so hard about it.”

The mare smiled sheepishly, gesturing to the table. “Tracy? Sorry about that, I’ll try to remember.”

And still he didn’t suspect a thing, climbing awkwardly into a chair. “Does this place have meus? Or… I guess if you work here, you’ll just handle all that. I’m… a little nervous about alien food for the first time. Not sure how much Roseluck told you.”

“Enough,” Bon Bon replied. “Don’t worry, you’ll be taken care of.”
> Chapter 12
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy couldn’t help but grin as Bon Bon settled his plate in front of him. In terms of tasting alien food for the first time, this looked like it would be far more alike than it was different. What was I expecting, monkey brains? This isn’t Indiana Jones. Instead it was a velvety-looking pastry, not unlike the breakfast pies he’d seen in the frozen food aisle.

“Dang that’s good,” he admitted. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d know how to cook for…” He trailed off awkwardly. He still didn’t want to just go and admit that he was an alien. “Yeah.”

“Better than what they serve in Canterlot?” the green one asked. Lyra, he thought her name was. “Maybe not as good as Ponyville’s version, but I enjoyed it.”

“Canterlot…” he repeated, poking at the edge of the pastry with one hoof. He didn’t cut into it yet, though the willpower to resist cost him more and more by the second. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a place like that. I’m from San Jose. Or… technically I’m from Ely, but that’s a long way out and nobody’s ever heard of it. So just call it San Jose.”

The ponies shared a look, particularly the two new ones he hadn’t met yet. Tracy searched for hostility in those eyes, but they seemed only confused and a little concerned. “I never left the city,” Lyra said, after a few bites from her pastry. “Is San Jose a nice place?”

Tracy shrugged. “If you’ve got money, I guess. The breweries seem interesting, and there’s the garden district. Basically, if you can afford not to live downtown it’s nice. Doesn’t help that half of the people living there are engineers working for one of the big companies, so they’re drowning in more money than they can spend. Drives up rent for the rest of us. That’s… how I got into this mess in the first place.”

It seemed to Tracy that a silent second conversation was taking place between these ponies. For all he knew, maybe they could speak with some sense he lacked. Instead of stressing about it, he finally dug into the breakfast pastry. The crust parted easily, filling his nose with a savory-sweet smell he couldn’t place. Let them share their private conversation while he ate, he’d trade that for a free breakfast.

Better be careful. If all their food tastes this good, I’ll be coming here too often. Maybe he’d have to do the exchange for gold like Discord suggested.

“So, you’re in Equestria because of the… price of rent?” The other new one asked. Bon Bon, he was pretty sure. At least their silly names were words he recognized.

He had to put the fork down to reply. “I didn’t believe it either. It’s not Rose’s fault, but… I think I was trapped into buying here. Is the name ‘Discord’ familiar to either of you?”

He didn’t need to wait for their responses, every one of them reacted with a jolt. Rose’s ears flattened, apparently embarrassed. Bon Bon didn’t look away. “I’ve, uh… heard of him.”

Him. So, she did know. He leaned across the table, hope rising involuntarily in his chest. It was probably unreasonable to expect anything, but he couldn’t help it. “Maybe you can help me! There was this contract… they’re everywhere when you rent somewhere to live, so I didn’t look too closely. Turns out it was forcing me into being here. Not that… you’re all not great or anything. I’m sure your world is amazing or whatever. But if you could help me get out of a contract with him… I’d be all kinds of grateful.”

The pony looked sympathetic, though far less hopeful than he would’ve wanted to see. “Discord is… more powerful than ordinary ponies can even imagine. Plenty of ponies today don’t even realize that he conquered all Equestria by himself. Kidnapping creatures from other realms…” She hesitated a moment. “Well, not kidnapping. You weren’t dragged here, right? You weren’t forced to agree?”

Before he could answer, Rose snapped suddenly alert. “Shouldn’t we be doing something about this, Bon Bon? You can’t keep listening to this like it’s true. What about the danger to Equestria?”

Tracy took a few seconds to process what she said. What could she be talking about? Why was she… Then it clicked. Back of the restaurant with creatures who seemed uniquely qualified to know about him. Confident, competent… “Rose, what are you asking? We’re here because you wanted to share Equestrian food with me, right? Isn’t that the only reason?”

Her head snapped towards him, glaring. “Finish your moth-pie, Tracing. I want to figure out what kind of rescue Bon Bon is planning. When do we save Equestria?”

Moth pie? Tracy dropped his fork, staring down into the pastry with sudden horror. Those little specks he could see drifting through its fluffy exterior, they couldn’t possibly be… He pawed at one, until he came out with an unmistakable chunk of wing, curled in on itself. “Oh god.” His stomach turned, revulsion coursing through him in waves. It didn’t matter how savory-sweet the pie had been, or how much he’d loved it only seconds before. They served him bugs!

“When it needs saving,” Bon Bon said. “I haven’t seen any sign we need to. What do you think, Lyra?”

Lyra rose from her chair, and something moved through the air in front of her. Tracy shielded his face from the self-propelled cloth, glowing suddenly gold—but apparently it wasn’t an attack. Instead of smashing into him, it stopped right in front of him. “You don’t look so well.”





He started to answer, but the taste of the pie was still sharp in his mouth. It was finally more than he could bear, and he began to heave. He flopped to the side, snatching the cloth and doing his best to keep the mess down. He hacked and coughed until there was nothing left in his stomach, then he kept going a little longer.

Tracy shook his head, shaking away the pain. He rose to unsteady hooves and found a cup of water floating in the air beside him. It was as impossible as everything else that had happened so far, but it was water and he was in pain, so he didn’t resist for long. He snatched it with a hoof, dumping it into and all over his face. 

The chef glanced between him and the floor, pained. “Was something wrong with your breakfast? It’s not easy to source insects for insectivores on short notice.”

He shuddered, backing away from the table. “Nothing was wrong with it. Other than… it’s bugs. The fuck are you eating bugs for?” He spun, glowering at Rose. “I thought you were going to show me what your world was like. That’s not why you… Fine. Just keep it, okay? I’m going home.” 

He shoved past the green one, kicked the door open, and stomped out onto the street. Tracy wasn’t really thinking after that, he just needed to get as much distance between him and the restaurant as he could. The light was overwhelming for a brain that was expecting stars. At least he didn’t have work tomorrow to worry about ruining things even more.

Tracy had been walking for nearly five whole minutes before he realized he’d run out of town. There hadn’t exactly been any thought to where he was going, and now… where was he?

Going on long walks back home was one thing, Tracy. But you don’t have a clue where you are.

He stopped, taking in his surroundings with a glance. He was standing on a dirt road, with a stone bridge ahead and trees all around. He hadn’t been going that long, so at least he couldn’t have far to go. He groaned, spinning back towards “Ponyville.”

My roommate is completely insane. She’s so afraid of me that she tricked me into meeting with… secret agents? Or just friends she trusts to back her up.

They hadn’t been trying to poison him. From Bon Bon’s reaction, she apparently thought the meal was something special. Because I eat bugs.

Just thinking about that meal brought all kinds of conflicting messages between his tongue and his stomach that he very much wanted to forget. 

He walked slowly back into town, not in any rush. It didn’t help that Rose had been the one to take him to the restaurant, and she was the only one who knew the layout of the city. Did he even know what his house looked like from the outside?

Tracy stopped abruptly as he noticed a familiar face behind a street-vendor. That was Lily, Rose’s younger sister. She stood behind a stall packed with flowers and bouquets, smiling hopefully at ponies as they passed. With each who continued by without a purchase, she deflated a little more.

Why couldn’t you be the one sharing the apartment with me. You wouldn’t completely lose your shit and try to get me arrested, would you? Granted, he’d only met her a few times, and never for more than a few moments of polite conversation.

Her flower stand clearly wasn’t busy. Tracy approached, not looking at the flowers even once. Hopefully that would be enough for her to realize that he wasn’t a customer.

“Welcome to the Flower Sisters’!” she exclaimed, as soon as he got close. “Locally sourced, locally prepared, meal ready—” She trailed off, eyes widening. “Wait a minute, you’re Tracing! I didn’t think you left the house during the day!”

His ears flattened—this was hardly the first time Tracy had been called a shut-in. But it wasn’t even true this time! “I don’t usually come out on this side,” he admitted. “There was something… Your sister wanted to take me to breakfast. And maybe a kidnapping, I’m not sure.”

Lily didn’t react to that last part. Instead she smiled conspiratorially. “It was only a matter of time with you living there. Don’t let her name fool you—if you’re trying to get something for her, lemongrass and mustard is her favorite. Do you want me to arrange some for you?”

I don’t think you know your sister as well as you think, Lily. She tried to lock me up, she isn’t interested in me. Thank god. “No.” He retreated. “This might sound like an odd question, but could you point me towards home? I don’t know how to find it. Your sister”—tried and failed to screw me over—“got separated. I’ve got myself turned around.”

“Oh.” Lily’s ears flattened. “I suppose it does make sense not buying from us. She would know I’d put it together. That’s probably… weird or something. Just don’t buy an arrangement from Barnyard Bargains. Their flowers come in refrigerated trains, and they taste awful.”

Are you even listening? “Do you know how to get to Rose’s house?” he asked again, speaking as slowly and deliberately as possible. “I am trying to get home and got lost.”

Lily hesitated another moment more, then pointed. “You live on Main, don’t you? A block over from the castle? Just go that way, and if you bump into a silly crystal tree, you’ve gone too far.”

“Thanks,” he said, turning to go without another second’s delay. Any longer around Lily, and someone was going to get strangled.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell her you asked!” Lily called after him. “I know how upset she gets when ponies pry into her relationships!”

Having to spend any length of time around a pony like Lily, Tracy could almost understand why she’d be so emotionally difficult. Almost.
> Chapter 13
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy didn’t go back to the house. He was certain he passed it after another few minutes of wandering, or at least the only other house he could find with a big screen TV downstairs. Few enough of the locals even had electric lights visible outside, let alone anything so modern.

He nearly went right back inside to lock himself in and get some rest. But then the light of the sun caught something in the distance, the thing he guessed Lily meant when she spoke of a castle. It towered over any of the other structures, even with considerable distance between itself and the thatch-roofed houses. He stumbled towards it, ignoring the other ponies on the street around him. Even his nudity faded to the back of his mind as he stared at a building that defied easy understanding.

Since coming to San Jose, Tracy had seen plenty of skyscrapers. They were cool in some ways, but nothing like this. For a few seconds, his eyes refused to accept what they were seeing. A skyscraper built entirely of glass, with no visible beams to support the weight. Like driving through Vegas and passing the Luxor, except he could see most of the way through the inside. There was a stairwell in there, and a few faintly pony-shaped objects moving up and down. No supports, though.

Bloody hell.

Tracy reached a sign outside the entrance a few moments later. “Castle of Princess Twilight Sparkle,” it proclaimed. “And Public Library. Open to all.”

I might never step out onto this side again. If I didn’t check this place out, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. If only Rose had taken him here, maybe he wouldn’t feel so betrayed.

There was a small crowd of ponies moving in and out, in the usual insane array of colors and patterns he was used to. Most were shorter than he was, though a couple of the wingless ones were built solidly enough that even he had to look up. 

A single pair of figures stood guard outside, and here the expression appeared literal. They wore golden armor in a pseudo-medieval style, though they didn’t seem to have any weapons or other practical tools. So, you’re an even sillier version of the Queen’s Guard?

He fell into line at the back of the little crowd, watching as he made his way inside. At least until he realized all that he was seeing from the back, and he decided to watch his hooves instead.

“Welcome to the castle,” said one of the guards, as he approached the doorway. “Please be respectful during your visit, the princess may be in attendance.”

“What princess?” he asked, a fraction of a second before tiredly realizing that he probably shouldn’t be showing off how ignorant he was in front of everyone.

The guard’s eyes widened inside his silly helmet, though he sounded more exasperated than afraid. “Princess… Twilight? You know, since… this is Ponyville and all? Tourists…”

He hurried through the open doorway, before he could lose his nerve and flee right in front of them. This place has been a few blocks down the road for weeks and I never even saw it.

More wonders waited inside—a spectacular mosaic under his hooves, depicting a horse with wings and a horn, floating in a position of deific repose. Crystal steps rose up a narrow trunk in this impossibly tree-shaped building. He was powerless to go anywhere but up, letting the crowd draw him along. Each step twisted the bitterness in his gut. He’d seen the silhouette of this building in the distance, it was right there. Yet his roommate hadn’t even mentioned it. All she wanted to do was trick him into… something.

I can’t run away from her. She’s still going to be waiting at home when I get back. He let that fade, catching up with the back of the group. He could blend into the crowd for a bit, take in the details of this castle belonging to a princess of an alien world.

He followed them through a throne-room with six stone chairs, and a huge table covered with a cloth that seemed to glow from underneath. He overheard confusing mutterings from the ones he followed, saying strange things about the ‘Elements of Harmony’ and all the things the ‘Cutie Map’ had led them to do for Equestria.

At long last they came to the single reason he’d even bothered with the building: the library. Most of the tourists continued without more than a glance inside, but Tracy dodged past them, into a vaulted space with balconies along the walls and little reading nooks lit by glowing purple rocks.

“Can I help you with something?” a voice asked. He almost missed them, until he saw the one speaking was half his height. A… lizard? Probably not just that, most lizards didn’t have wings. Dragon then?

But are you badass, or adorable? His teeth sure looked sharp, so maybe the former. “I’m just… Wait, maybe you can. Do you have any books here about Discord?”

“Magical history or current events?” the dragon asked, not skipping a beat. “Twilight keeps a collection of both. Always seemed silly to me—Discord’s around all the time. But I guess they’re for other ponies who visit.”

“Current events?” he said uncertainly. “I mean, historical might help too. I’m really just…” He glanced around the library, searching for other patrons. There were maybe half a dozen other figures in here, less than a single tour group. He lowered his voice anyway. “I, uh… know someone he tricked into a contract. I’m trying to help them get out of it.”

“With books?” The dragon winced. “Tell your friend good luck, but don’t try. Their only hope is to try and be his friend too, or… really just keep their head down and wait for him to lose interest.” Dragons seemed able to recognize pony facial expressions, because he reached up, patting Tracy’s shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry too much, uh… whoever you are.”

“Tracy” he answered reflexively. “Maybe I didn’t want to think about it too much, but… yeah. It’s me.”

“Spike,” the dragon continued. “Don’t worry, Tracy. Discord might seem scary, but he’s not the same creature you’ll read about in our old books. He’s reformed. The princesses wouldn’t let him do anything too damaging towards Equestria. Whatever he tricked you into doing, it probably won’t be as bad as you’re thinking.”
 
Tracy nodded weakly—not so much because he believed Spike, but because it seemed like the thing to do. The more aliens he met, the harder it was going to be to hide.

“Do you still want those books? They probably won’t help much, but… you could always make an appointment with the princess. Unless you’re… not from Ponyville. If you’re visiting, you should talk to whatever princess oversees your city.”

“I live down the road,” he said, pointing with one wing in the direction he guessed led towards his house. “But that sounds complicated. I’m sure she doesn’t want to be bothered. If it’s anything like seeing the president, it’s probably getting my hopes up over nothing.”

“No way!” Spike stood up straighter, puffing out his chest. “I might just be helping around the library, but while Twilight’s in town I’m her number one assistant! I manage her whole calendar, actually! Getting you in would be easy!” He bent down, removing something from the satchel he’d been wearing. A… scroll? “Just tell me when you want me to pencil you in. Looks like the princess has an opening… next Tuesday. You said your name was… Tracy?”

Tracy spread his wings reflexively, backing away. “Hold on a second. I’m not… I’m not asking for an appointment. I’ll need to think about this a little more before deciding on anything like that. I just wanted to do a little reading, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Spike put the pen down, looking disappointed. “If you’re sure. Not everypony gets help from Twilight’s personal assistant. You might want to reconsider while you have the chance.”





He was tempted. Speaking to a local authority might be a way to escape this prison months earlier than he’d hoped. But there might be something in the contract he’d missed about arbitrations… he should really look at that before bringing anything in, or else invite some even worse punishment just for pissing the demon off.

“I’ll wait,” he said flatly. “I don’t know when I’ll be back in town, anyway. I’m sure the princess is really busy; I wouldn’t want to bother her.”

“Sure, but… didn’t you just say you lived here?”

He was already backing away. Tracy’s ears flattened, and his wings folded back at his sides. “I do, but I only leave my house on the other side, not in town. It’s… complicated, I wouldn’t want to bother anyone about it. But thanks for listening!” Tracy didn’t wait around to make even more of a fool of himself but turned and strode off as quickly as he dared without running.

He reached the stairs back down without more guards rushing to arrest him, and soon enough Tracy was back out on the street. Outside, the sun suggested it was about noon, though his brain still told him it was the middle of the night. He swayed on his hooves, fighting back tiredness enough to keep himself from collapsing. He really should get back—he probably wouldn’t be coming back out here again.

The door wasn’t locked when he reached it—maybe he should’ve been worried about his console and gaming setup being stolen. But if Rose was any guide, none of the locals would even recognize his gaming console for what it was, let alone try to steal it.

He walked to Roseluck’s binder, then flipped it open. He was immediately assaulted with more red ink. The title proclaimed this to be the accounting for “Flower Sisters’” along with licensing and permit information for a stand. I already knew they worked together.

From what he saw on the next few pages, it looked like Rose was trying to put together the numbers for her company, probably to pay off the increasingly expensive loans running up an entire side of the page. You’re worse off than I am, Rose. At least I only had no money. You’ve got debts big enough to drown in.

The front door slammed closed. Rose stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and swollen. She stared at Tracy and the accounting. Maybe she would start screaming again, the way she’d done when he first walked in?

“Go on then,” she said, voice bitter. “This is where you gloat about your victory, isn’t it? Equestria’s defenders don’t think you’re a threat, and you finally find out about my flower stand. I could even preview a few for you. How about ‘you’ll be destitute when Equestria is finally mine.’ Or… maybe something about how we won’t even have flowers to eat once you’re ruling the kingdom. Go on, I’m waiting.”




> Chapter 14
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy stared back at Rose. He might’ve been the one to scream at her an hour ago, but the anger and betrayal had cooled during his visit to the library. He was too tired for any righteous indignation, no matter how entitled to it he might be. “You could’ve just asked what I was doing here,” he said, flipping the binder closed with one hoof. “I would’ve told you. I wasn’t keeping any secrets.”

She rolled her eyes, stalking towards the table. Rose began scooping up her belongings, thankfully just with her legs. If Tracy hadn’t already been so occupied with other things, he probably would’ve had another meltdown about the levitation he’d seen inside that restaurant. 

“Equestria has been attacked half a dozen times in the last five years,” Rose said flatly. “Am I really supposed to think that the invaders would just tell us their plans?”

He took a few steps back from the table, yawning. Without intention on his part, his wings stretched out as well. Just another strange reflex from a body that didn’t make sense. “Maybe if I was anything like an invader. I haven’t even been to your side of the…” He gestured vaguely at the door. “I haven’t even been through there once until now. I ask for your help, and you try to poison me with bugs.”

“Poison you?” Rose looked up from the table, furious. “That wasn’t part of anything I was doing to you, Tracing. That was Bon Bon being a good friend, finding something rare and special she thought you’d like. She took your side and you say thank you by puking on her floor.” 

She slumped down onto her haunches, looking defeated. “You won, Tracy. Your evil army gets to take over Equestria and the heroes of Ponyville won’t do anything to stop it. You won’t win in the end, though. The Elements are still here. They stopped so many other dangers, they can stop you.”

Tracy didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. She was still holding to this insane idea, despite the total lack of evidence. “Your friends have more sense than you do, Rose. Bon Bon could tell in five minutes that I’m as much a victim here as you are. Discord tricked both of us. I can see how it happened—I’m going to lose my job and have to go home destitute. Your flower company is on the edge of collapse as soon as your creditors decide to start collecting. You didn’t have anywhere else to go, and neither did I.”

He turned, storming away towards the stairs. “When I’d finished puking my guts out, I went to the castle. The princess’s assistant told me I probably won’t be able to get out of my contract, and I’m sure he’s right. You’re stuck with me for another year. Then I’ll have my job, and I’ll be able to afford a house somewhere that I’m not a fucking horse.

He stopped at the edge of the stairs, glowering back at her. “And put your books in fucking Quicken or something. You’ve got dozens of profitable products, but you keep overstocking on things nobody wants. You’re just asking to go bankrupt with inventory management like that.”

If she tried to say anything else, Tracy didn’t even hear her. He stormed up into his room, then slammed the door shut behind him.







Roseluck stared up at the empty stairwell, wondering for the first time if maybe, somehow, she might’ve overreacted. Not a feeling she knew often, or at least not one she would’ve typically admitted to. Equestria could be dangerous, and Ponyville most of all. Everypony who hadn’t moved away kept up their sanity somehow. In her case, it was just by reacting promptly to danger. The one time Rose went out of her way to try and protect the ponies around her, instead of just running away like she usually did—and apparently, she’d done it wrong. 

Roseluck pawed at her accounting, biting back anger. For the gloating of a victorious invader, Tracy hadn’t seemed terribly vindictive. Was he trying to help her in some backward way? What was a Quicken, anyway?

Some part of her expected Tracy to finally make his assault on Ponyville, now that the opposition had been conquered. Either that, or at least Rose’s friends would realize their mistake and rush in to try and salvage the situation.

Neither happened, though Lyra visited her stand almost every day asking for a chance to come over and speak to the visitor again. “I know our first meeting didn’t go well,” she said, holding a single white rose in her magic she’d probably bought out of politeness. “When is he usually home? I’d like to compare notes to my first experience with Canterlot. I’m nearly certain that he’s from a different realm than the one I last visited. I must know more about it.”

Rose glanced to one side, checking to see if Lily was paying attention. But no, the mare wasn’t even here. She’d snuck off for lunch without even saying anything. She’s giving up on the stand. Maybe I should be too. Just let the bank take it all. It would mean the end of everything their parents had left them. It would mean working for another pony for the rest of her life, doing something she hated. And it seemed more certain every day.

“He’s there all the time,” she answered absently. “Probably right now. But—”

“He’s a bat, I know,” the unicorn interrupted. “I’ve met plenty of them, I can work with a nocturnal schedule. It’s just about finding the times that overlap. Probably getting up early in the morning or heading over right before bed.”

“Don’t bother,” she said flatly. “He barely talks anymore. I think I stopped the invasion by making him hate Equestria.”

Lyra rolled her eyes, reaching across the table to rest a hoof on her shoulder. “Rose, your invader couldn’t even eat a bug. Sooner or later you’re going to have to give up that silly idea and move on.”

“You didn’t see,” she countered. “They’re so… big, so strange. Nothing that looks like that could be friendly.”

Lyra muttered something under her breath, something that sounded suspiciously like “earth ponies” before backing away. “I know Ponyville is a very traditional place, but you can’t keep thinking that way forever. Equestria is connected now. We’ve got dragons, griffons… all kinds of creatures. They might seem alien at first, because they’re so different. But every one of them understands friendship. Including the bat you have living upstairs.”

The unicorn walked away, leaving Rose feeling only numb. It’s not over yet. We still have the Equinox coming up. We can make enough to keep collections away for another year. We can still do this.

She had given her service to Ponyville, and apparently been wrong to even think it was needed. Now she needed to worry about herself, and her own family. Everything else could come later.

There was a small mountain of work to prepare for the Equinox. No single holiday involved more orders for her stand. Not all the flowers ponies wanted for a holiday like this were ready at the same time, which meant managing as much magic as simple inventory. Earth ponies were great at keeping plants alive even in difficult conditions, but even with three talented ponies she could split her attention only so far.

Roseluck wanted to be hiking through the White Tail Woods, harvesting a single rare flower among thousands and taking it back for a perfect bouquet. Instead she spent her nights up late staring at forms and collection notices and a mountain of unsorted orders. She saw Tracy even less as she stopped using her bedroom, inevitably falling asleep in a little tent of crumpled pages. 

And every week she brought them back to the bank and had to come up with a reason why they needed just a few more bits to make that week’s orders.

We’re not out of time yet, she told herself, over and over. It would still be true, until the day it wasn’t. I wonder what happens when Discord finds out I can’t pay the rent anymore.







Tracy pulled his little Civic out of the garage, adjusting the air conditioner on his face. The sensation was so strange coming from a car that often made him run the heat just to let the engine work that his senses almost rebelled. He twisted the radio all the way up, and music from brand new speakers filled the car.

Some strange part of his brain balked at the sight of people walking the streets on two legs, expecting them to lose their balance and fall over at any moment. Apparently sleeping in another universe was having an impact, even if he spent the smallest possible length of time there.

“Incoming text message from: Janet,” said Alexa. “Another great week, Tracy! Those unit tests you wrote caught another vulnerability in our firmware. Now we have weeks to fix the issue instead of a zero day just waiting to hit us with a lawsuit.”

He grinned, taking a slight detour away from his usual route home. Such good results on his performance review meant great things for his hiring prospects at the end of the term. Only a month away now, and already it felt like he was indispensable to the department. 

All Tracy’s friends were back in a small town in the middle of nowhere. There was no one to treat to a night out. There were plenty of local bars catering to the engineers, but the interesting people he met there always grew suddenly bored when they found out he was just an intern.

Won’t have that problem for much longer. In many ways Tracy’s life was basically the same as when he’d been living in his car, with a slightly more comfortable place to sleep. But once he was fully hired… what did a person even do with all that money?

Get far away from you, Discord. Say goodbye to the world of horses and paranoid roommates and return to sanity. 

He wouldn’t be allowed to move away for a year, that’s what the lease said. But he’d lasted this long, and it was already paying off. He could make it a little longer.

I’ll rub her face in it a little. Tracy stopped at the local ice cream place, ordering two gallons of his favorite flavors. He wouldn’t even try to trick her into eating tobacco the way she had with bugs.

He pulled in front of the apartment a few minutes later, taking the bag under one arm and practically skipping his way up the front steps. The physicality on that side of the door was still difficult for him, but he’d adapted. Enough to eat or use his computer without much trouble, anyway.

She probably won’t even want any. It’s still breakfast over there. How did ponies spend their Friday nights, anyway? That dragon probably knew how to have fun.

Tracy hesitated awkwardly by the door as one of his neighbors passed, pretending to become very interested in his phone until she’d walked out of view. The streetlight in front of the duplex always seemed to be out, probably Discord’s doing. But that didn’t mean he was going to act stupid about it. He hadn’t forgotten Discord’s warning about bringing too many people into the apartment. God help him if the rest of the world found out he lived in another universe.

He slipped the phone away, glanced once more over his shoulder, and hurried inside as quietly as he could. He pushed the door shut gently with one hoof, and there were no screams of terror from the other side. Another night down, two ninety something to go.

He reached the inner door and nearly swung it open without thinking. Rose would be getting breakfast now, the perfect time to rub her nose in how wrong she was. Maybe she’d taste how delicious human ice cream could be, and finally apologize.

He hesitated, sensitive ears perking. Thankfully that little annoyance only existed on this side, but damn if his ears couldn’t pick up things he didn’t want to hear.

Including soft sobbing from the other side of the door. He could even identify the pony—Rose, exactly as he might’ve expected, sounding utterly heartbroken.

He might’ve turned around right there, headed back out to give her a chance to collect herself. Even someone who’d mistreated him so badly didn’t deserve that embarrassment.

Instead he pushed the door open, quietly enough that she wouldn’t hear it. 

She was at her usual spot, buried in an ocean of incomprehensible business records. For something she worked on every day to never improve, she might’ve been bad at this.

It’s probably what she deserves. If she gets paranoid and completely freaks out at everyone else. Maybe she shouldn’t be running a company.

Tracy hesitated in the doorway a moment more, then stomped loudly forward, making as much noise as he could. “Hey, I brought ice cream. Thought you might want some.” He held up the bag, pretending not to see the tears streaking her face. “Double Fudge and Dulce de Leche. Probably the best flavors ever invented."
> Chapter 15
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy watched a few seconds more, gauging the pony’s reaction. But he’d barely been in contact with her for the last few weeks, ever since her first attempt to get him… arrested? Whatever the ponies would’ve done to someone who didn’t belong. Maybe nothing, if Discord was telling the truth. 

“Do you not have ice cream here?” He settled both on the kitchen counter, then went for bowls and a scoop. He placed one there, not waiting for Rose before filling the bottom of his bowl and making a little space at the edge of the table.

Strange things could happen in another world, including his body trying to trick him into enjoying bugs. But his favorite flavors still tasted as fantastic as he remembered. He savored each bite, even if he had to balance a spoon with a wing while he did.

“No time,” Rose croaked, shaking herself free of the small mountain of pages. They scattered all around her, and she rose to her hooves. “I only have until tonight to… make the final order. If I get it wrong…” Was she so tired she’d forgotten how much she hated him? Tracy settled the spoon back into his bowl, though some part of him didn’t care if he spilled.

But it was hard to look at a creature in so much distress, no matter how much she’d done to him. How long could he hold a grudge? “You look like you’re having some trouble,” he said, keeping his tone as neutral as he could. Anything less, and she might think this was just another attack. “Do you want some help?”

She glared back at him, and Tracy half expected her to at least try at an insult. Then she looked away, apparently too exhausted even for that. “What would you know about business?”

Not very much, but I know a lot about data entry. “It wouldn’t even take that long,” he continued. “Toss my ice cream in the freezer for me, I’ll grab my scanner from upstairs. Your forms all look the same, so this shouldn’t take more than an hour.”

“What are you talking ab—” He hurried past her up the stairs, through the open door to his bedroom. Most of his crap was still packed in boxes, but at least he’d sorted enough to know which had technology and which didn’t. He tore open the portable scanner—a relic he’d inherited from his father’s old things, nothing he’d ever expected to use. His inability to throw anything away was Rose’s gain.

Nothing had changed as he hefted it downstairs, balancing it in his wings and one hoof. He nearly tripped more than once but managed to set it down beside the entertainment center.

“My ice cream, I said…” he groaned, but fell abruptly silent. Rose was crying again, staring down at her oppressive mountain of accounting as though it were a beast about to devour her. You should’ve gone for help sooner, Rose. You’re stubborn about more than just your paranoia.

Tracy took a few minutes to set things up on the couch—his laptop would be a pain to use down here without the modified keyboard, but his dexterity had made great strides in the last few weeks. He could manage a touchscreen, anyway.

He took a few sheets at random off the table, carrying them over to the form-feed drawer on his printer. 

Rose barely noticed. She was in a daze, staring down at her binder and occasionally scratching at it with a pencil. It didn’t seem like she’d made any progress for some time. Maybe days, if Tracy was right about how familiar that page looked.





The process was painful at first, since he had to manually map scanned input to columns and rows. By the third sheet he only had a few things to enter, and by the tenth he just had to correct smudged numbers or unreadable writing. Tracy might not know very much about running a business, but the data spoke clearly enough. He piled up the scanned sheets on the empty recliner, gathering up anther wing full to bring to the scanner.

“What are you…” Rose remained at her chair. She didn’t even try to stop him, much less get up and look. “What kind of… weapon is that?”

“It’s called a scanner, and it’s running OCR on your accounting. I’ll admit I was a little optimistic. More like… three hours.” He glanced back to the kitchen and winced as he saw the slime dripping slowly across the floor. Right. Didn’t put that away. He could always buy more tomorrow. When he got hired, he could buy more than any human or horse could eat.

“That doesn’t… mean anything,” Rose groaned. But she didn’t have the energy to keep arguing, or do anything else for that matter. She flopped back onto the kitchen table, and soon enough she was snoring. 

Tracy could feel a little of that tiredness himself, though he felt no pressure to rush to bed on a Friday night. He could keep awake for a good cause. Already there were more pages piled up on the couch than scattered on the table. An hour passed, until the table had been completely cleared and all he was missing was the binder. Probably the oldest of Rose’s records were in there, based on the dates from what he had scanned, but even so… getting that information into the database would at least give him some idea of what had gone wrong.

It was probably noon outside, or midnight in the world that made any sense to him. Too bad he hadn’t ever properly moved in, or he could’ve put a pot of coffee on to help keep him awake. 

“I need your binder,” he said, prodding at it with a hoof. “I’m assuming you care about your records earlier than a year ago. At least I won’t have the scanner jamming on half the pages with the stuff you actually took care of.”

She stared up at him, pulling it closer to her chest reflexively. “I don’t…” She finally seemed to see him then, and the empty table in front of her. She stared around, until her eyes settled on the organized piles across the room. “It’s not about getting them straightened, Tracy. I need to… I need to know what to order, and how much. If I can’t give the bank a… profitability estimate, they’re not going to give us the bits.” She shook her head once, and a little of the glaze vanished from her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m even telling you this. There’s nothing you can do. Not even Lily and Daisy can help, and they’re in the stall with me every day. But just knowing how to arrange flowers or how to keep them alive… it isn’t the same thing as actually running the stand.”

“I know.” He crossed the room towards his laptop, resting a hoof on the lid. “I scanned everything. I know how many of each item you sold, I know how much you paid each time, and whether you made a profit or a loss. If we generalize, we might be able to guess which flowers sold best at which times of year.” He lowered his voice to a mutter, tapping the screen to scroll through the reports the accounting software had spat out. What would work think about him using their license to run the books for an alien florist in another universe? “The only thing I can’t figure out is why the hell I’m helping you.”

“You can’t.” Rose dragged her hooves as she crossed the room, staring uncomprehending at his laptop screen. “I’ve been working on this for weeks now. Ever since I gave up on the last—doesn’t matter. I’ve been trying to get the festival numbers for weeks. What did you even… do?”

“The same thing every company does nowadays,” he responded, pointing at the screen. “Know your numbers, know your business. I’d like the rest of your records before you make predictions based on this.” He slipped past her, opening the binder and flipping past her garbled attempt to correlate all this. More than one separate attempt based on the number of crumpled pages. 

He slipped the other pages out, then settled them into the scanner. By now the computer barely even stopped him for input, just an occasional confirmation on which way to read a character. Through reasons that defined all explanation, it handled alien handwriting no different than any of the others it could reference from its online OCR database.

Should we even be speaking the same language? But he was getting into details again, and the more he tried to figure out the less sense any of this made. Discord might strictly enforce his contracts, but he didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Rose settled onto her haunches, watching silently as the printer scanned her accounting. The graphs shifted a little each time, expanding the time horizon back and showing exactly how her little company had become insolvent. Finally, he’d gone through the last sheet, and he tabbed over a few times to the general inventory report. It was basically the same thing she’d been trying to create herself, only… without all the mistakes and starting over. 

“This what you wanted?” he asked. “Wait, hold on. I’ll just…” The printer hummed, and a few seconds later spat out a stack of pages. He settled them in front of her, then finally let himself sit down. “That’s what you wanted, right? Three years of inventory. You didn’t keep great information about how long your inventory lasts, or else it would probably be able to give you more precise waste calculations. I just guesstimated three weeks for everything based on how long my mom used to keep flowers before they went bad.”

Rose backed away, taking the sheets and spreading them on the floor in front of her. She snatched the binder back, tearing her own graph paper right out and holding it up to the printouts. “H-how…” Tracy couldn’t guess how she could confirm much of anything from the state of her own books, but apparently the numbers satisfied her. “I thought we were having trouble with the petunias. I just thought that, fractionally…” She trailed off, looking back at him. “How?”

“You’re not the first company to switch to digital. Everybody does it, and they all have different books. I just… made some guesses about what you wanted, and scanned it all in. You’re way better off keeping it digital from now on, by the way. You can get your day’s numbers added in a few seconds.” Except you’ll need to borrow my computer each time, and I’m not sure why I’d let you.

Rose flung her forelegs around his neck and started sobbing all over again, right into his shoulder. Tracy let her do it, body stiff and awkward. “It’s… okay?” Was it? Those numbers were bleak.

“You can’t… know what this means,” she sobbed. “I was wrong… about you.”




> Chapter 16
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy stared down at the tablet Janet had given him, skimming over its lines one more time. Some part of him expected this to be a trick, that he’d tap it and the next screen over would announce it was a joke. It didn’t matter that doing something so cruel probably wouldn’t even be legal, even if Janet had been the type to try it, which she wasn’t.

“FORMAL OFFER of EMPLOYMENT CONTRACT”

It began, before spilling out into blocks of legalese. Like what he’d signed to work as an intern, though far more favorable to him in this case. As soon as he signed this, he’d go from an indentured servant to something approaching a real human. He skimmed through the next few pages, searching for the most interesting part. When he saw the salary, he nearly dropped the tablet. It was probably less than many others made at bigger companies, even starting. But it was also more money in a week than he saw in a month, with less hours.

“Why?” he finally asked, the only sound he could manage. “I thought… I was going to be evaluated for longer—”

“Long enough to tell if we want you,” Janet said, folding her hands together across the desk. “I’ve made my decision, Tracy. My department wants you. That little stunt with our contractors last week—still can’t believe they thought they could revise a contract after negotiation and we wouldn’t notice. That just isn't the competence we expect from our hardware team.”

He shrugged. “I’ve had the motivation to really dig into my last few contracts,” he said noncommittally. Then he held up the tablet. “This is real, Janet? I sign this, and… it’s official?”

“It’s official,” she agreed. “Evaluation’s over. There’s no reason to keep you in suspense now that my decision is already made. Yours is the only one that needs recording. Feel free to take the tablet with you, if you want to read over ours. You… won’t find anything trying to screw you in there, though. Standard six-month noncompete after termination, nothing fancy when it comes to options. Those come later, when you’re a little higher up the totem pole. But there’s no reason you couldn’t be, Tracy. You’re exactly the kind of candidate our department was looking for.”

He did take a few more minutes to read over the contract, much more because he’d made a big deal about it than because he expected the company to be trying to screw him. He found nothing he hadn’t expected, certainly nothing like a demon trying to trick his soul away in exchange for his signature. He brought the tablet back to Janet a few minutes later, and that was that. Life was changed now, he’d made it.

He barely noticed time pass during the rest of his workday. Next thing he knew, one of the software engineers in his department was waving him over to their private breakroom.

“I hear you’re official,” Eric said. “Things will change around here now.”

You’re going to get your own coffee from now on? He didn’t say so, though. Tracy was far too excited to be bitter with anyone. “Yeah?”

“Tonight’s pub night,” said Lori, flicking a card towards him.

He caught it in one hand, staring down. He’d driven past this place a dozen times on his way into work, though he had no idea what it was. 

“Now that you’re not going to turn to dust in a month, you’re invited.” 

He winced, turning over the card in one hand. “That’s awesome!” he said, feigning excitement. But some horse aliens invited me to a festival tomorrow and I probably shouldn’t be super hung-over for it. “I’ll have to take a rain check until next time, though. Family is, uh… already made plans to celebrate with me. Yeah. But I’d go if I could.”

He could sense their dissatisfaction before he’d even finished explaining. But how could they argue—it wasn’t every day he finally got his dream job.

“We’ll look the other way this time,” Janet said, folding her arms sternly. “But consider them essential from here on. You’d be surprised how many good ideas come out of Friday nights.”

Laughter echoed from around her, and someone muttered, “If that’s what you’d call them.”

She turned to glower back at the offender, but Tracy only nodded. He could probably use a little social time with actual people, instead of the magical animals who lived on the other side of his apartment door.

Best not mention that part, though.

He did stop somewhere on his way home, even if it wasn’t at the company pub. He wasn’t sure what passed for formalwear among the horses, but apparently the Equinox was an important day to them. And even if it ended up being a little overkill for the festival, he’d need it for his real life eventually.

He was practically humming as he reached the door into Nowhere, hanger over one shoulder. Do I even tell her? There was very little about his life that translated to that side.

He waited until there was no one to watch, the same way he always did. Even on a day as bright as this one, he could still have nightmares about what might happen if someone caught a photo of him crossing over.

He slipped rapidly inside, ready to catch the suit folded over his back before it could get all wrinkled and ruined on the ground. He had the coordination to do it.

The inner door was always shut, so there was no more accidentally exposing Earth to the unprepared eyes of his roommate or any of her guests.

He was right to be prepared this time too, he could hear several energetic voices through the door as he pushed his way in.

The smell hit him first, a floral perfume that rolled past “pleasant” without even slowing down into territory that his mind was scarcely prepared to comprehend. There was no mystery about why—the entire living room had been transformed into a product preparation space. 

Green insulated boxes were packed in near the doorway, each one with uncut flowers waiting to be prepared. Rose’s sisters Lily and Daisy worked in the kitchen, one stripping away some of the extra flowers and the other working skillfully with clippers. Rose ferried their finished work—trays of orange and red brooches and little wreath-crowns—into a waiting cart with vapor rising slowly from massive blocks of ice inside.

“Tracy!” she said, grinning at him as he made his way in. Genuine excitement too, not the barely restrained suspicion of their last two months. “I was wondering when you’d show up. You should try one of these.”

She nudged a tray towards him, gesturing expectantly. A bright orange flower pinned into something green with sprigs of leaves emerging artfully from either side. “Try it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I, uh… I don’t know what you mean. How do I wear it?”

“You’re kidding me,” Daisy muttered, exasperated. “You sure this is the same one who found the bits we needed? He thinks you’re supposed to wear those?”

Rose ignored her, lifting the tray closer to him. “You eat it, silly. No one at the festival will get one as fresh as this, Tracy. Try it.”

He probably wouldn’t have, if he wasn’t in such a good mood. That and she had said his name correctly this time. Didn’t they make tea out of flowers in Asia somewhere?

He bent down, closing his mouth around an entire flower-and-cucumber… sandwich? He expected having to pretend he liked it, but his expectations shattered instantly. He was overwhelmed with a brief hint of mint and cucumber, combined into something he couldn’t quite identify. 

Rose settled the tray back in place, looking satisfied. “See, told you. Half of Ponyville wishes they could have one that fresh.”

“What is it?” he asked, as soon as he’d finished chewing. That part was as annoying as he’d expected, even if the taste made up for it. Petals didn’t want to be chewed, but that was only a few more moments of inconvenience.

“Blooming Canape,” she answered. “Cucumber, tulip, mint, and turmeric. They’re popular in the festival season. And those are the three bouquets we always sell the most of…” She gestured back into the kitchen. 

“I sure hope so,” Lily called, though she didn’t take the clippers from her mouth, and her words were slightly garbled. “There’s no way they’ll loan us anymore bits if all these don’t sell. This is either the start of things getting better, or… the end for the flower stand.”

Now probably isn’t the time to mention a promotion Rose won’t even understand, he thought. “I’ll be there for moral support,” Tracy said, smiling weakly. “Even if I have… no idea what this Equinox festival is, or what I’m supposed to do there.”

“You won’t have to do anything,” Rose said quickly, cutting off Daisy before she could offer some unhelpful advice. “It’ll mean a lot for you to be there. Maybe this is the beginning of our recovery, or… maybe this is where we crash and burn and must make hayfries for the rest of our lives. Either way!”

Wish there was something I could do to help you. He couldn’t even give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder without fearing that it might mean something else to the horse people, and imply more than he wanted to do. With her family here, he’d never live it down.

“The numbers are sound,” he said. “Unless your population totally turned over since last year’s data, they’re going to have similar purchasing behavior. Just do what you always do, and you’ll do great!”

“Except we aren’t selling half our old flowers,” Lily grumbled, from across the room. “Ponies might be a little upset they don’t get their favorites.”

“Yeah…” Rose muttered, turning towards her. “Maybe we should try to place an emergency order, prepare something before it’s too late—”

Tracy caught her with a hoof, stopping her before she could get any closer to the door. “No, Rose. I mean… it’s your money, you can do whatever you want with it. But the data just doesn’t support that. Too much variety is what got you into this mess in the first place. If you go make tiny emergency orders now, you give up your economy of scale. Just keep the plan you made; it’ll pan out. I promise.”

Daisy marched back to the front door, tossing an empty wooden crate aside with her teeth and opening the next one. She did that with her teeth too, abruptly enough that Tracy felt sympathetic flashes of pain with every gesture. But the mare didn’t seem to notice. “Might as well keep doing what we’re trying,” she said. “If we made a mistake now, it’s probably too late to fix.”

Rose slumped to her haunches, ears flattening. “Yeah… but the numbers looked good. Mom would’ve thought this was a good idea. We just need to be brave and try something a little crazy.”

He retreated towards the stairwell, adjusting the jacket he carried. “Oh, before I… when does this thing start? I’d like to get some sleep first.”

“Bats,” Lily muttered, annoyance in her voice. 

Rose glared back at her, then answered, “And you probably don’t need all that.” She nodded towards the suit. “I’m sure it would look great on you, but… this isn’t Canterlot. Earth pony holidays are usually casual dress. All that history of not having the bits for clothes… it might make you stand out.”

Of course it would. Because wearing clothes makes me rich around here. Tracy made his way back upstairs, then into a room that no longer looked like he’d just moved in. There were still a few unpacked boxes up against the wall, but this time he had to find some room in the closet for the suit. Probably should’ve asked if I needed it before I bought this, he thought, flopping sideways in bed and fumbling around for his phone. His stubbornly oversensitive ears could still make out the work going on downstairs, as the flower sisters prepared for the festival. 

Good thing they don’t work from here every day, this smell is insane, he thought, closing his eyes. Like an explosion on the perfume aisle, but… better than he’d been expecting.

Waking up early for an alien festival was a little more exciting than just getting up for work, even if he wasn’t an intern anymore. Too bad he didn’t have anyone to celebrate with.
> Chapter 17
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy woke to the chimes of his phone alarm, only a little earlier than when he’d normally rise for work. Granted he usually got to sleep in on weekends, but… his only chance to participate in an alien holiday was probably well worth a little tiredness. He got ready in a rush, showering quickly in the bathroom with its embarrassing lack of privacy.

Rose wasn’t leading him on—at a time when the horse world outside was usually dark and subdued, the streets were lit with torches and lanterns from one end of town to the other. He cleaned up as quickly as he could, this time mercifully without any of them waving at him through the window. 

He almost wondered if he was doing something wrong and they were ignoring him, until he noticed he hadn’t turned on the light. “Weird…” He flipped it on, then winced, shielding his face with the back of one leg. “When did that thing get so damn bright?” He flicked it back off, using the light of distant lanterns to style his mane.

He really didn’t know what he was doing, but even his own failures at horse fashion had to be better than the nothing he usually did.

Rose said the holiday should be spent naked, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do that. Even if he wouldn’t be leaving through the Earthside door until Monday.

Granted, the pony equivalents of his clothes didn’t really do much. Stupid things on his legs and a vest in the same pattern as the polo shirt it was on the outside. But if he didn’t wear it, he might just die of embarrassment. Besides, Tracy had so much practice with clothing on the pony side that it barely even slowed him down. He was well ahead of schedule by the time he finally made it downstairs into the kitchen.

The ruin of the flower sisters’ hard work was spread everywhere, with fallen stems covering the kitchen floor and empty crates packed against one wall. The chilled cart was gone, though a damp stain remained on the carpet where it had stood.

Good thing I didn’t make that mess. The contract had fines in place for damage to the property, to be paid by the offending party. They were all sufficiently arcane that Tracy had just resolved not to do any of them.

Tracy made his way to the door, slowing slightly as he finally noticed the music from outside. It sounded at once traditional and modern, with ancient harpsichord and percussion occasionally blended with poppy beats. How are they even playing that? Maybe if he asked Rose about their technology this time, she wouldn’t assume he was planning for an invasion and might answer.

Tracy slipped out the door, hesitating for a moment as the light of so many candles disoriented him. The house had been so comfortable without any lights switched on.

The streets were packed with more ponies that he’d ever seen in one place, thronging together far closer than human ideas of personal space would permit. He approached nervously, wings spreading slightly as he prepared to flee. Not that the wings would help much with that. He didn’t know how to use them.

“Spring this way!” a voice called, over the sound of cheerful voices chatting together. “Remember, only one circuit for everypony! We have too many visitors for seconds!”

He couldn’t even guess at what that meant, but Tracy didn’t really feel like he had to. Rose and her sisters were in Spring with the fresh flowers, that much was obvious. He could catch up with her there.

He’d barely made it two steps into the crowd before someone thrust a plain wooden necklace towards him, tossing it over his neck. “You forgot yours!” they said, one high-pitched voice among dozens of overwhelmingly colorful blobs. “Here’s an extra!”

He looked down to investigate, though there wasn’t much to see. Like a charm bracelet without any actual charms. He tried to squirm out of it, but by the time he’d managed to take it off, he couldn’t even see the pony who had given it to him. Tracy shrugged and slipped it back on, head down as he squeezed through the crowd. The sooner he could get to Rose’s stall, the sooner he could figure out what the hell was going on.

He found her basically where he’d been told to expect, up against the city hall building. A line of ponies trailed out behind it for hundreds of feet, practically clambering over each other to reach the front. Tracy didn’t wait, walking along the line. They weren’t leaving in frustration when they got to the front, so he could only assume they’d been right about their purchasing decisions. 

“You made it!” Rose appeared from behind the stall, waving energetically to him. She had a necklace too, though little wooden sections filled every opening with intricately carved flowers. That probably meant something, though he was as clueless about that as everything else he’d seen so far. “Enjoying the festival?”

“I have no clue what’s going on,” he said flatly. “But it looks like your stall is doing good. That’s enough reason to celebrate all by itself.”

She nodded, ears perking as pride filled her voice. “A few ponies were disappointed we didn’t have their favorites this year, but… on the whole it’s been great. But nopony could predict the princess would come here to celebrate. She usually prefers the bigger cities.”

What would a big city of horses even look like? “Your… royalty?” he asked instead. “Guess that is pretty exciting. All these people are here to try and see her?”

Rose shrugged. “See her, or just celebrate in the same place she is. Princess Luna has only been back a few years, so there are still lots of ponies who haven’t seen her for themselves. Maybe that’s why she picked Ponyville, so she could apologize for her first visit…”

Before he could ask what any of that meant, Tracy felt a hoof wrap around his, tugging him away from the flower-stand. “We can’t celebrate the whole Equinox from here!”

As baffled as he was, Tracy didn’t resist. There was just so much here to see, so much that as an outsider he couldn’t even guess where to begin. Then again, at least he had someone friendly to ask, so maybe he could start there. “You haven’t even told me what we’re celebrating.”

Rose nodded eagerly, or at least he thought she did. It was hard to get a very good look at what she was doing when she insisted on dragging him towards some unknown destination, instead of just talking to him like a normal person.

“You know what the equinox is, right?” she asked. But she didn’t even wait for an answer before barging on ahead. “Well, that’s what we’re here celebrating. In Equestria there are four seasons, and moving between them is important. Sometimes there’s more hard work for ponies to do, like the Winter Wrap Up. But the Equinox doesn’t really make us do anything to change the seasons, we just… well, focus on the harvest I guess. My family hasn’t done very much to help with that kind of thing in a long time. Generations.”

She slowed, enough that he could finally pull his leg free and catch up with her.

The more she said, the less confident he became. Maybe it would be better if he just asked the questions that would prompt the most direct answers. “There are several holidays like this on my world,” he said. What does ‘celebrate the Equinox’ mean for you, exactly? What are these necklaces, to start with?”

“Oh, those?” She beamed, holding hers up. “Yours won’t look like this; this shows I’m staff working in the Spring part.” They were rapidly approaching a tent in the middle of the road, with a wide entrance and several ponies outside. The whole crowd seemed to be funneling through it one at a time, so he wasn’t too worried. And they all have the ass-tattoos. I should probably ask about those when this whole thing is over. “I’ll see you on the other side. The staff goes through at the beginning, so I already did all this. It wouldn’t be right of me to go through twice.”

“Wait!” His wings splayed involuntarily in discomfort, and he reached out towards her. “I don’t even know what I’m doing! Is this a religious thing, because I really don’t want to—”

Too late. She retreated into the crowd, which parted around her far faster than he could keep up. He tried to follow, but the line kept shoving him back into place. 

Soon he was shoved through a set of blackout curtains and into the tent proper. 

For the second time that night, Tracy was completely blinded, by something that was almost sunlight.

“The time for seedlings is over,” said a high-pitched voice, not much older than a seedling itself.

The inside of the tent was covered in bright green things, flower displays, and an exaggerated cutout of the sun. If this was a religious holiday, it had striking similarities to an educational diorama. “The time comes to strike the earth and sow, or the summer will pass us by without a harvest.”

A tiny pony—even tinier than usual—waited by the back of the tent, handing out little bits of wood. This one had a flower and a leaf, and fit into place perfectly in his necklace.

Then he was out again, feeling more confused than ever by whatever the hell he’d just seen.

At least Rose didn’t leave him to be lost in the crowd, but joined him just a few steps outside the tent, grinning eagerly. Past this first tent, the decorations around town had changed. Instead of green and flower themed, these were yellow and orange, with trees and growing wheat and bright yellow suns. The Summer section, he supposed. “One down, three to go!”

He suppressed a groan. This might feel like morning, but this wasn’t what he imagined when he’d thought about an alien festival. “You don’t have anything more…” He hesitated. “Is this what it’s like? Going through the year by visiting different tents?”

She nodded. Her grin was so wide, whatever cruel thing he’d been imagining just wouldn’t come out. It was childish and pointless, but what was the point of telling her? “The procession of the Equinox is the least important holiday of the year for lots of ponies,” she said. “Now that we have better tools for remembering harvests, it’s mostly just an old tradition. Ponies like giving out gifts for Hearth’s Warming, or spending Hearts and Hooves Day with their special someponies. But the Equinoxes have always felt more… real…”

She trailed off, leading them out of the densest crowd. He was eager to follow, out of the flow where he could finally breathe again. 

Out here he could get a better view of the whole event. Past some farming dioramas up ahead there was a marketplace, where most of the activity seemed centered. He could smell the cooking food even from here.

Yet the flower display gets to sell food earlier, while everyone is still hungry. No wonder you make so much money today.

“All those other days are really just celebrating things that ponies do. We could’ve done them differently, or maybe we did and it’s just lost to history. But the Equinox is… so much more important than that. If we didn’t advance the seasons, the planet would get sick, animals would die… it’s a reminder of our fundamental connection to the earth, you know?”

If we didn’t advance the seasons. Maybe there was a quirk in the translation he inherited whenever he came here, assuming it… even was a translation thing.

“I shouldn’t linger, though. There’s authentic Apple family cider in the Autumn section, let’s get there. You’ve never had any before, so I’m only buying you one mug. I don’t like being around ponies when they’re drunk.”

“You don’t have to buy me anything,” he said, hurrying to keep up with her. She knew a more direct route, dodging between the thickest crowds, behind a few displays, then past an alley blocked off with a plain wooden barricade. They emerged in a patch of open starlight, the first calm place in a sea of activity. “I just got promoted, actually. I can afford to get my own alcohol—”

He walked right into her rump, and nearly tripped over her in an even more embarrassing display of clumsiness.

Why the hell was she bowing?

A horse stood alone just in front of her, body all in dark blues and purples. Her mane was the strangest part, blowing faintly in a breeze that Tracy couldn’t feel.

“I didn’t expect anypony here,” she said, her voice low and confident. “Shouldn’t you two be somewhere else?”
> Chapter 18
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





Princess Luna, Dreambringer, Patron of Stars and Nightmares, was standing less than a meter away, expression annoyed. This was the kind of thing ponies had nightmares about. She’d done something dumb enough to upset Equestria’s rulers, and now she would face terrible consequences. Even worse, her guest from another world somehow couldn’t tell a princess when he saw one, and didn’t even know to bow. He stared stupidly at her, mouth hanging open, and didn’t even try to share the proper respect.

She’s not Nightmare Moon anymore. She isn’t going to turn us to stone or anything else evil. Probably. She was still the Princess of Nightmares; she’d still made the Tantabus…

“P-please, Princess. This pony isn’t… He’s a stranger visiting from far away. He doesn’t know anything.”

Tracy glared at her, looking hurt. Though what he had to be upset about when he wasn’t the one who would pay for his ignorance…

At least he was smart enough not to argue, or to say anything stupid to the princess. Yet. “This is Princess Luna,” she said, desperation in her voice. Anything she could do to try and stop Tracy from getting them both in trouble. I do not need a royal decree against the flower stand right now. “Diarch of Equestria. Winter and Spring are her seasons, kinda like Summer and Autumn are her sister’s… I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

The princess touched her shoulder with one hoof, silencing her. “I fear you must misunderstand my intentions. I am not here to pass judgement. Though I admit, I am always curious to hear how far the children of the night have traveled.” 

She turned towards Tracy, who managed something that was very almost a bow, and mostly just seemed like he was tripping over himself. “What is your name, bat?”

“Tracy Maxwell,” he answered, without half the respect due to a princess. “Rose is right, this is only my third night in Equestria. I probably don’t know enough to be talking to someone as important as you.”

Somepony, Rose thought, though she couldn’t point out the mistake. Not without it being even more obvious how rude Tracy was bringing to the scariest princess of Equestria.

“From whence did you travel, Tracy Maxwell?” she asked. “I have heard no creature describe themselves in those terms before, not for countless eons. You must have much that is useful to share with the ponies of Equestria.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Several hundred miles and one universe.”

Rose tensed, expecting the moment of discipline to come at last. Obviously Nightmare Moon wouldn’t be happy with some… monster traveling from another universe. If it wasn’t for how much help he’d been to get the flower stand running again, she might’ve even been happy about this.

The princess only clicked her tongue in a curious way, then turned. “I’m sure that’s quite the tale. Sadly I will not be permitted to hear of it tonight. If we never meet again, may the skies always be clear in your flight, child of shadow.”

With that blessing—an ancient recitation Rose recognized even if Tracy obviously wouldn’t—the princess slipped around a corner and out of sight. 

Rose remained bowing for a few seconds more, expecting the princess to return moments later. Would it be more respectful if she thought they were too afraid to move?

“She’s gone,” Tracy said bluntly, nudging her with a hoof. “I don’t know what you were so afraid of, Rose. She seemed pretty normal. Like… the Queen. She’s supposed to be pretty easy to get along with.”

Rose waited a few moments more, though it seemed like Tracy was probably right. The princess did have a festival to run, and probably wouldn’t be coming back. Tracy hadn’t done anything that insulting, really…

“Queens are always evil,” Rose argued, finally dusting herself off and standing again. “Princesses are always kind and gentle. It’s basically a law of the universe.”

“A law of the Disney Channel, maybe.” 

But her companion already sounded cheerful again. To him a chance to meet one of the rulers of Equestria herself barely even mattered. It was just something else that had happened during the festival today.

Rose took a few deep breaths, trying to clear her mind. She hadn’t brought the alien here to make him feel unwelcome, she wanted to show her gratitude for his help! Her fear was probably overblown, anyway. Nightmare Moon was ancient history. “There are two more sections to get through,” she continued, pulling him back along the way they’d come. “You’ll want some cider, everypony does.”

He let her lead her through the rest of the festival, one season at a time. He didn’t seem to understand most of the old poems, but at least he listened and acted respectfully when anypony noticed them.

He wasn’t half as interested in the ciders as she’d expected, instead drifting towards one of the rear booths of the community display. Thanks to their resident member, they had several actual Wonderbolts in attendance this year, bragging about the shows they put on and recruiting for the new season.

Tracy practically dragged her over, forgetting the cider and listening to the story with awe and disbelief on his face. Finally he pulled her aside, whispering urgently into her ear. “Rose, uh… this probably sounds crazy, but… can those ponies actually fly? Heavier than air feels incongruous with everything else you have, and I can’t explain those uniforms any other way.”

“Thank you for not asking them that,” she hissed back, though she was every bit as graceful as she claimed to be. “Of course they can fly, they’re pegasi.” She nudged his wings, eyes narrowing. “Bats fly too, you know. Even if you aren’t good enough at speed-flying for the most competitive parts of the…” 

That probably wasn’t polite. She settled on poking one of his wings again. “You can’t seriously be telling me that you didn’t know that. You’re just playing dumb on purpose.” 

He fell back from the crowd, and there was nothing at all mocking in his tone when he spoke. “It doesn’t even seem possible to me, Roseluck. Flying around with living wings… that’s what birds do, not people.”

They left the display behind, and went through the last season’s section. With his necklace complete, all that was left were the souvenir shops, and the sculpture garden. He walked between them in awkward silence, occasionally seeming interested in something but never buying anything. He left without any of the paintings or little models that ponies usually bought on their first trips.

They were halfway back to the flower-cart before she realized why. He wasn’t from Equestria, he probably didn’t even know how to use bits. One more thing for me to feel guilty about…

“I’m glad I was wrong about you, Tracy,” she said, slowing even more as they approached the cart. She didn’t want her sisters to hear them, and make it out like she was getting romantic or anything. Obviously she wouldn’t be doing that with an alien, that just didn’t make sense. “You weren’t an invader. It looked like the stand would sell out of everything when I left. This is going to be our biggest year ever, even without half the items.”

Tracy nodded, looking infuriatingly smug. But she could forgive him a little of that, this time. “It’s a shame you waited as long as you did. I, uh… I don’t really know much about how companies work, but my business teacher was all about numbers and metrics and stuff.”

“Keeping it up to date will be its own adventure,” Rose went on. “I’ve… well, you saw what I did for accounting. Mom was the best at that stuff, but when she died…” She sniffed, then sped up. This stallion had already seen her in pain, she wasn’t going to show off even more of it. 

“I could probably help. Your notes from each day were good, it’s just about keeping them scanned in. Now that I’ve been promoted, I could probably afford to grab you a Raspberry Pi or something to use as PoS. Then you wouldn’t even have to fill out notes each day, it could just send everything to your merchant account. Or… okay, there’s no internet on your side. But we could figure something out.”

You don’t seem to care about making sense, she thought. But maybe it didn’t matter. If he was going to keep helping, then she had no reason to feel anything but grateful. “There should probably be something in it for you. Not that we’re not grateful, but my sisters and I aren’t a charity. We can’t keep—” She stopped abruptly, and he smacked into her for the second time that night. He still had to work on his situational awareness.

“If the stand starts to recover, we could pay you. Enough bits for you to…” She lowered her voice to a sympathetic whisper. “Look, I know you probably don’t want anypony to know, but not being able to fly isn’t going to solve itself. There are a few remedial flight classes in Canterlot. Lots of pegasus ponies who never visited Cloudsdale, or didn’t get a chance to learn for other reasons. I’ll have to check in on it, but I’m pretty sure they only meet once a week. That’s not too often, is it?”

He spread his wings defensively, backing away from her. At least the Spring section was emptying out now. There were still plenty of smaller groups of ponies, probably the ones who traveled from far away or just got off work. More importantly, they had a little space to themselves. Everypony was in Autumn or Winter by now.

“I’m sure flying is awesome, but that’s a lot of commitment for something I won’t be able to do in nine months anyway.”

“Sounds like more reason to do it than ever!” Rose nudged him, and no longer had to force her excitement. “When you move out, you’ll be… going back to your side, right?”

She barely even waited for him to nod in response. “Then why the buck would you want to leave without learning? It’s your only chance… even if you don’t use it for that long. You don’t have to join the Wonderbolts, but… I’d love to be able to do something like that.”

Tracy was silent as they reached the cart, expression thoughtful. Finally he spoke again, the same tone he’d used whenever he was about to say something he knew was stupid. “It doesn’t seem very fair, Roseluck. The pegasus ponies can fly. The ones with horns can move things around. Does that mean that most of the ponies I know—you and your family for instance—are you just screwed?”

She had to take a moment to consider her response, parsing the unusual words he’d chosen to represent his displeasure. Finally she shook her head. “I’m sure there are earth ponies who wish they could do magic, but there are probably unicorns who wish they were as strong as us. My family, we might not be able to fly around like you, but we use our powers to find flowers so rare that nopony else can. We keep them fresh and alive long enough to compete with a big chain like Barnyard Bargains. Besides, I don’t think anypony can be unhappy when they’re using their special talent.”

Tracy looked like he was going to ask about that one too, but he fell silent as they returned to the cart and the ponies gathered outside it.

Lyra and her fiancé. They’d both bought crowns, though from the way they leaned against the cart it seemed they were mostly here to chat.

Lyra was the first to notice them, spinning around and waving enthusiastically. “Roseluck! You showed the human the Equinox festival, eh?”

She nodded, ears flattening at her volume. Lyra didn’t seem to care much if anypony overheard. In fairness to her, it didn’t seem like anyone listening cared what she said. 

“It was very enlightening,” Tracy said, saving her. “I’m still trying to figure out what I saw, but I’m glad she invited me. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like it on my end.”

“Since you’re here, I was hoping to ask you a few questions,” she went on, tugging on Tracy’s foreleg. “I’ve been going over my notes from my trip across the mirror, and I was hoping you could explain some things—”

Tracy spread his wings. “That’s uh… Tonight probably isn’t the best time for that. But if you’re really interested, I guess it wouldn’t be fair for me to learn all this and not share some things in return. Maybe you could stop by at night—or wait, morning. Morning on your end, yeah. I’m usually at work when it’s night for you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Bon Bon said, reaching over to adjust Lyra’s crown peremptorily. “She gets like this sometimes. I’m sure most ponies wouldn’t want to get grilled about Equestria either.”

“It’s fine,” Tracy said again, and Rose found herself feeling a twinge of something she couldn’t place. It didn’t… No, obviously she wouldn’t be jealous. She wasn’t in any kind of relationship with this pony, and Lyra’s future spouse was two feet away. It wouldn’t be like that. “I just don’t think it will be very interesting to you. Where I come from is so… rigid, compared to this place.”

They arranged the visit just a few days from now, and the pair of them slipped away, rushing to get to the next station. You’ve been waiting for him this whole time, haven’t you? You knew he’d be here.

“I’ll let you get back to it,” Tracy said, as soon as the pair had vanished into the crowd. “Thanks for showing me, Rose. I think I might need a moment to process all this. Can I get back to you on the flight thing?”

“We still don’t know if the stand is going to survive, so that shouldn’t be a problem. Just think about it.”

He turned away, and didn’t even ask for directions back to the house.
> Chapter 19
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy didn’t usually keep a journal. He had no family to speak of, and wasn’t expecting he would have any children. Who was going to read anything he had to say? 

But when he got back from the Equinox festival, he found a notepad program and wrote down everything he could possibly remember. He spent hours getting it all down, and when he was done his only real regret was that he hadn’t managed to smuggle a camera in during the celebration.

The Equestrians were strange, certainly. By some definitions they were a primitive civilization, maybe a century removed from his own world. But just one real night with them, and Tracy saw hints of depth that defied classification, different directions their world had taken that made it more difficult to compare. Ponies didn’t seem to have aircraft for instance, but maybe they didn’t need them. Maybe a third of them could just fly the others around when they needed to get somewhere.

There was more to know about their different tribes, too. The princess he’d briefly met had spoken to him with sensitivity, as though being a bat made him somehow her responsibility.

There was some relief too, that Roseluck and her sisters wouldn’t be losing their family business. They would still have to make changes, but… compared to what they’d already achieved, it seemed so easy. 

He was still writing when he heard Rose come home, though his coherent narrative of the religious details had broken into random cultural milieu he’d noticed—the items of clothing they did wear, the way their society seemed subconsciously stratified by race, even if the ponies themselves seemed eager to deny it.

Woah there, Tracy. You’re getting way too invested in something you’re leaving behind.

He stopped his typing abruptly, staring at a document that was nearly ten pages long. Had he really typed all that with hooves? And judging by the growing darkness out his window, he’d been up almost all day doing it. Damn I’m going to be jetlagged when I go to work on Monday.

Maybe it was better for the locals to hate him, so there was no temptation to see more of their world than he should. Every second he had spent there, every faint glimpse urged him to learn more. Who was the princess, and why did the ponies speak so strangely about the seasons? Their spring display had involved physically destroying clouds to melt snow, which pushed any winter metaphor far beyond any sensible explanation.

I’ve got the money for another place once I get my first paycheck. I could avoid coming back here.

But even thinking about it brought back unpleasant memories to his first attempt to dodge the contract. Its terms were lenient, until the moment he tried to go against its purpose. 

Instead he slipped out the bedroom door, catching Rose halfway to her own room.

It was rare he ever got to see inside. Her window was open as wide as his, and there were a few faint shreds of sunlight growing from the horizon. We’ll both be in trouble after staying up this late. “How’d the rest of the festival go?” 

She stopped in her doorway, spinning back around. Even after spending a whole day on her side, the embarrassment of everyone being naked hadn’t faded. 

Her expression brightened, and she obviously fought back exhaustion. “Fantastic! Whole cart was empty when we brought it back. A few ponies even slipped around for seconds.”

“Now that I’ve tasted, I know why. You don’t know what that means coming from someone who never would’ve eaten a flower.”

She smiled tiredly at him. “Did you just come out here to compliment me?”

For being confident enough to keep your stand going even when you thought it was doomed. For being brave enough to try and stop an alien from conquering your country. For being pretty enough to— “No!” he snapped, before he realized it probably made him sound too sharp. “I mean… a little bit. But before that, I wanted to thank you for bringing me. And if your flower sales keep going well, then… I guess I wouldn’t mind a little something part time. I wouldn’t be able to work very many hours on your side, since our time doesn’t line up, but…”

She embraced him, before he’d even finished speaking. “My sisters will be thrilled to have your help.” He squirmed at the contact, but not enough to push her away. It felt wrong to be up so close to her, like he had stumbled somewhere he didn’t deserve to be. “You think I’m bad at keeping books? Notice how much they helped? Lily hates it, and Daisy would only make everything a hundred times worse.”

She let go, retreating towards her door. “We’re closed tomorrow, but I should still get some sleep. There’s only so much coffee a pony can drink before they turn into Pinkie Pie.” She hesitated in her doorway, smiling sleepily at him. “I’ll look into the flying classes for you. Maybe I can find one closer than Canterlot—I wouldn’t want to ride the train that many times a week.”

“Wasn’t I the one who was signing up for a flying class?”

She stuck her tongue out. “Obviously I’d go with you, Tracy. You didn’t even know a princess when you saw her—you’d need moral support, or you’d probably jump off a cliff before you were ready. Or… what do bats do, caves?”

She left him there in the hallway, confused in more ways than he could count.

Technically I can’t take part-time work with any other company after I signed that contract today. But Apex aren’t the devil. It won’t be that hard to help a little flower stand keep up with its inventory. I don’t even have to help them file taxes.

Tracy made a point of spending the rest of his weekend on the correct side of his door, though the town beyond had lost much of the fear that had kept him trapped inside. Now that he’d been hired full time, there were a few things he wanted to pick up, some of which were for an alien flower company in another dimension…

Maybe he should’ve just taken the department up on their invitation to the pub. Hopefully the flying lessons wouldn’t be happening on the same nights, or that would get awkward fast. ‘Yeah boss, in the secret world inside my apartment, I’m actually a bat horse learning to fly. There’s a local, sexiest pony you ever saw, and she’s going to be taking me in exchange for helping with the flower business.’

For all its other restrictions, Tracy’s intimate study of the contract could locate no injunction against telling other people, though it was quite specific about posting videos to the internet at large. Maybe Discord knew how likely he was to be believed.

When Monday came so did his first real day on the job, nearly a month ahead of schedule. The whole department had a little party waiting for him, complete with his name misspelled on a cake shaped vaguely like a baseball for some reason.

He got his key to the campus pool, along with his first real assignment working for Apex. It should’ve been the best day of his life.

But as Tracy stared at his drafting screen, sketching out the initial template for the part he was designing, he found his mind drifting far from the CAD file and the promise of a gigantic salary.

He’d been living on the threshold of another universe, and rarely stepped outside.

It was time to change that.
> Chapter 20
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Lyra?” Rose stopped in the doorway, eyes widening in surprise. Of all the creatures to visit early in the morning, she hadn’t expected one least likely to be awake. “You’re, uh… here early.”

“Yeah, I know.” She grinned, shifting under the weight of heavy saddlebags. Well, heavy to a unicorn. Rose could’ve managed those and a few sacks of cement and still had enough energy to run. “Your roommate should be expecting me. Tracy, I think is how you say it?”

Rose nodded, glancing over her shoulder. Her roommate had lingered in the kitchen after dumping his work stuff upstairs, rather than prepare for bed. She fought back the first wave of disappointment—some part of her had been hoping that it was for her.

There’s no reason for you to get jealous, Rose. This pony is already engaged and doesn’t like stallions anyway. “Tracy, Lyra is here for you?”


“Yeah, I’m expecting her.” 

He’d set up on the kitchen table, with a brown sack smelling of strange food and more of his unusual devices. But thanks to him that table wasn’t drowning in financial records of her dying company. She could accept that not everything weird he did was meant to bring an invasion of Equestria, despite what living in Ponyville could sometimes suggest to the contrary.

Lyra hurried past her in a blur, pulling over a chair and dumping the contents of her satchel onto the table. An oversized notepad by the look of it, along with one of those fancy new pens with an internal inkwell. “Thanks for seeing me, Tracy! I know you must be busy, living in two worlds the way you do. I’ll be as sparing with your time as possible.”

Rose caught him rolling his eyes as he fiddled with a strange metal cup. It clicked and hissed, then he drank with the relief of somepony starving having their first mouthful of oats. “No problem. It’s not about the time, really… it’s about my world and yours being opposites of each other. I just got home from work, and you just woke up.”

Rose pretended not to be paying any attention. She returned to the kitchen, but instead of the complex meal of crepes and hash-browns she’d been imagining, opted for a bowl of oats instead. That way she could sit on the other side of the table and keep an eye on things. Obviously it was nothing more than simple curiosity at work. 

“You remember the plan, right? I’d like to ask a few questions about the place you came from. Maybe take a look at it myself one day, when there’s an opportunity. But… from your face, I’m guessing that’s not easy.”

Tracy laughed, settling his weird metal container back down on the table. “Easiest thing in the world, you just walk through that door behind me. But I’m not sure what you’d think of it. It’s very different from Ponyville. It’s so different that I’ve spent the last three months never going into your world, because it didn’t make any sense to me.”

That was changing now, though. He’d already promised to join her at the flower stand tomorrow, to set up whatever a “POS” was. Rose didn’t really need to know, because he’d explained it would take care of all their records from then on. 

There’d been one less collection notice in the mail yesterday, one fewer loan. 

“We’ll have to talk more about that,” Lyra said, flipping open her notebook and sitting up in her chair. Tracy rested one hoof on the edge of his machine, closing it flat with a click and putting out whatever light was glowing from within.

“I hope you don’t mind if I eat dinner while we talk,” he said absently, dumping the contents of his bag onto the table. “You caught me before I could eat.”

Lyra shrugged, staring at his food in fascination. Rose felt herself doing the same, though it was mostly the smell. His bag wasn’t just strange, but it was turning her stomach upside-down. Bug stuff, probably. Though she couldn’t tell just at a glance. He had a basket of strange smelling hayfries, and a sandwich wrapped in silvery foil. What the buck smelled so bad?

“Why don’t we start with something simple then,” Lyra continued, obviously a little distracted by the smell. “Tell me about where you come from, in your own words. It was a revelation to me that there was more than one alternate world. But the reading I’ve done since then suggests there might be an infinite number.”

“If we were on that side, I’d tell you I’m from Ely, Nevada. Small town in the middle of nowhere. It’s a desert, so getting used to all the green is hard for me.”

“The other side didn’t look small,” Rose said, before she could stop herself. She covered her mouth with a hoof, realizing they were both staring at her. “Sorry, ignore me. Keep going with your interview.”

But Tracy didn’t. “Ely isn’t on the other side of that door, that’s San Jose. It’s a much bigger city in a much bigger state, with waaay more people. It’s a pretty nice place, way faster paced than anything I was used to back home. But I moved here for the change, you know? You get tired of everyone acting sorry for you wherever you go.”

Even Rose didn’t have a clue what he could be talking about there. There was pain in his voice, one he’d never shared around her before.

Tracy tried to brush it off, scooping up a hoof full of his curly hayfries. There’s no way there’s real hay in there. What kind of junk food are you eating?

“I think we’re getting a little off-topic,” Lyra said, her voice strained now. “So you were in a desert before and now you’re not. Why don’t we focus on the similarities, like your cutie mark there? That’s a… spark gap transmitter, isn’t it? You must have quite the story about getting it.”

Tracy raised a confused eyebrow. His ears flattened as he saw what Lyra was staring at—was he embarrassed? Why would you be upset about a mark as interesting as that, Tracy? You could be stuck with a flower.

“I think I’ve heard that word a few times now. But people always say it like I’m supposed to know what it means. Maybe you could tell me what a cutie mark is, just so we’re on the same page?”

He unwrapped the little bundle as he spoke, and the smell only got worse. Rose choked back a gasp, and her appetite vanished in an instant. 

Tracy hesitated, sniffing the air above his sandwich. It was a hayburger, though it smelled like none Rose had ever seen. Maybe it was bug that folded in sheets like that? But if it was, why did Tracy look as sick as she did?

He took a cautious bite, then nearly gagged, shoving the whole thing into the bag with horror on his face. “Oh god, that’s awful. I swear it didn’t seem so bad on the way here. I would’ve gone back for a damn refund.”

He stalked into the kitchen, tossing the sack down into the garbage. He yanked the window open for good measure, then took a long, relieved breath.

“Well, that nightmare’s over. So much for catching dinner on my side.”

He slouched back to the table, then pulled his mutant hayfries over and went back to munching them.

Lyra only stared, long enough that even Rose started feeling overwhelmed. But at least that awful smell was gone.

“You don’t know? You have a cutie mark right now, how could you not know where you got it? Why would you get it made into all your clothes otherwise?”

“I… don’t,” Tracy replied, scooting his chair slightly away from her. “I’ve never seen this mark before I came to Equestria. I don’t know how or why it’s on my butt, but at least everyone else has them, so I’m not alone here. I’ve never even seen whatever it is, so if you tell me it’s a transmitter, I believe you.”

“Cutie marks are fundamental to the way ponies see themselves,” Lyra said. “I would have trouble imagining a world without them, except we’ve had more contact with other cultures recently. It’s interesting that you didn’t become one of them when you entered Equestria. Either the portal you’ve found is less precise, or maybe it says something about how aware you are of your own talents.”

Tracy shrugged. “That honestly doesn’t tell me much about them. Rose, can you… make any sense of this? What even is a cutie mark?”

Apparently he hadn’t forgotten she was here after all. Rose twisted in her seat, glancing briefly back at her own mark. “Well, uh… ponies get them as soon as they discover their special talent. Most of us have a story about how we found it, and what we learned about ourselves when we did. Once you get a cutie mark, you’ll be gifted with that thing for the rest of your life. My sisters and I are all some of the best flower-arrangers in Equestria. We can find rare strains nopony else can, we can keep them fresh, and we have a sense for what ponies want without them asking. Lots of that came from the cutie mark.”

“Then our world doesn’t work like that,” he said, glaring at the empty paper tray. “There’s nothing to tell us what we’re good at, and I’ve never had a ‘special talent’ that I know of. People can figure out on their own if they’re good at something or not. And if they don’t, then… the world will tell them soon enough. Make enough bad art, and you’ll be hungry because no one wants to buy it. Or… well, you get the idea.”

“Fascinating.” Lyra’s pen flew across the page, scribbling things down far more rapidly than anything he said. How could she add commentary and listen to anything being said at the same time? 

She went through a few more basic questions, though none were as interesting to Rose as that first. The place he described hardly seemed like somewhere that would swallow Equestria like the Smooze and consume every drop of magic they had. They didn’t even believe in magic, if Tracy was right, wouldn’t have known it when they saw it. As for everything else, it mostly just reminded her of griffons. Creatures who spent their lives mostly alone, catching fish in the river and living generally grumpy lives without magic or cutie marks. Except instead of not having one king, they had too many.

But that was when she couldn’t listen anymore. While Lyra finished off her interview with questions about transportation and technology, Rose finished off her breakfast and prepared to set off for work.

Lyra looked like she could probably keep going for hours, but as she finally headed to the door, Tracy jumped to his hooves. “Wait, Rose! Don’t forget, I was going to, uh… put that stuff into the flower stand today, remember? Can’t forget about the sales terminal. Just, uh… let me fiddle with the box here.”

Rose hadn’t really paid much attention to the pile of brown boxes Tracy had gathered near his scrying panel. She hadn’t wanted to get much closer to that thing ever since her first experience and the purple monster it had shown her. 

That wasn’t supposed to be today. But one look at Tracy was all she needed to recognize the desperation. He was sick of the interview, and didn’t want to tell her. It wasn’t surprising—few creatures could handle Lyra’s intensity. “Yeah, sorry,” Rose added, dropping her saddlebags to the ground and flicking them open for him. “I do need to get to work.”

“That’s alright.” Lyra’s ears flattened, and she scribbled in her notebook for another few lines. She snapped it shut abruptly, tucking it away. “Thanks for sharing so much, Tracy. I would like to arrange a visit to your world, if it’s not too hard. Could you talk to the president and get permission for me?”

The bat choked back a laugh, burying his face in the cardboard. Finally he nodded. “That’s not really the way things work, but… sure. Assuming the door works the same way for you going to my world as it does for me going to yours. Otherwise… I just don’t think my world is ready for Equestria.”
> Chapter 21
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy shouldn’t have been that overwhelmed by a few questions. The one asking them wasn’t even threatening, more the kind of creature a child would find at the best petting zoo ever.

“Thanks for helping me out of that,” he said, as soon as they’d left Lyra behind and were well on their way across Ponyville. His watch still read seven, so it wasn’t like he felt incredibly tired or anything. If only the sun wasn’t so bright. “I should’ve realized she would want to know everything. I’ve had months to learn little things about Equestria, but she’s trying to power it all down in a few minutes.”

Rose had seemed upset during the interview, though he couldn’t imagine why. Probably just the rotten brisket sandwich stinking up the kitchen. But now that they were out in Ponyville none of her sourness had followed her. “You invited her, you should’ve expected that. Or maybe not, I guess I should’ve given you some kind of warning first. Lyra wishes she could be out traveling other worlds, but she doesn’t get to very much so she spends too much time talking about when she did.”

I can understand that. If anyone at work knew that I lived in another universe, they’d probably have a few questions to ask too. But the more he did to talk about Equestria on the other side, the closer he came to tempt the terms of the contract. Given the one enforcing the rules, he would prefer to stay as far away from the terms as possible. “Well now that I’m out, I guess I might as well do what I said I would. I won’t be able to stay with you all day, since I’ve got work tomorrow and I need sleep eventually. But a few hours shouldn’t be a problem.”

He could just drink a second shot of espresso tomorrow morning. That was basically three hours of sleep in a mug.

Ponyville was closer to his hometown than San Jose, that was for sure. Everyone they passed greeted Rose by name as though they’d known her for years. A single central main street with most shops connected to it also seemed like home—though at least everything looked different enough that Tracy didn’t feel like he needed to run away. It was a strange new world, not the ghost of his past come back from the dead.

“Having good records isn’t going to save the shop on its own,” Rose said, stopping abruptly near where buildings ended and market stalls began. Closest was a fruit seller, where one of the little yellow horses he’d seen at the festival was there hawking apples. “But at least having all the numbers will show us what needs to change. The less time my sisters and I spend away from the plants, the happier we’ll all be.”

The stand was barely even large enough for one more adult to fit inside with the other two. Tracy followed Rose through the cloth flap, and was momentarily stunned by the smell.

He held still, expecting to descend into hacking coughs in just a few seconds. Allergies, are you on vacation?

Apparently so, because his eyes didn’t even water.

Lily and Daisy were both staring. “You brought him to work?” Lily asked.

Rose nodded, glowering. But there were so many other little stalls, and none of them very far apart. She hesitated, drawing a curtain across the front of the stall to obscure them. 

“We talked about this. Tracy brought us something to help us keep records. We’ll always know everything we have in the store, all the orders we’ve placed, and everything anypony buys from here on.”

It would have to help them big-time, if he ever expected to learn to fly. But Tracy couldn’t help but conjure images of being pushed out of trees, so missing out on that might not be the end of the world. “It won’t take that long,” he said instead. “If you don’t like it, I can return everything.” 

There were half a dozen little shelves of flowers, all packed together. Many were empty, though some had new stock. And between them all, Daisy was trimming away at her latest arrangement. Rose settled the saddlebags on an empty section of table, gesturing. “Go on, Tracy. Do you need any help?”

“Not really. Just some space.”

Tracy set to work as quickly as he could, conscious of the eyes of the other mares on him. Well, Lily watched. Daisy went to the front to sell flowers, or at least stand there. He unwrapped the little POS tablet, basically just an old iPad with a stand. He’d seen the same things in trendy shops all over San Jose, attached to little Square scanners and contactless payment terminals.

Ponies didn’t have any of that, and he’d had to fenagle the sales program to work with their database instead of some cloud-based subscription nonsense. Needless to say, he didn’t expect to have service in Ponyville.

The closer he got to setting it up, the more the flower sisters crowded around him to stare. Apparently Equestria didn’t have anything like plastic packaging, let alone tablet computers and point of sale devices. Soon enough even Daisy had come back from the outside to stare while he gave a running banal commentary of what he was doing. “This is the battery bank, it’s what will keep the tablet powered through the day. Now I’m plugging it in with a USB cable…”

Explaining didn’t really seem to help, but he kept going anyway because it stopped them from asking dumb questions. “Now we need to load the operating system I flashed to an SD-card with the specifics of your flower stand.” 

Eventually he was finished, and the tablet sat on the table beside a tray of cut stems. Tracy could never really know how objects were going to come through the doorway, but all that happened to the tablet was that it seemed to grow in size, so large that the stand could barely hold it up anymore. But when ponies have to touch it with their feet to make anything happen, it makes sense it would be big. 

The printer came last, along with several spools of thermal paper. “This is the important part. When whoever is at the front gets an order, it will come back here to this printer. You tear off a piece, and know what you need to make.”

“We already know what we need to make!” Lily called, glaring suddenly at Rose. “This arrangement Daisy is working on—it’s for a birthday party tonight. You know how Pinkie gets—if there’s one thing off, whole order is trash.”

Rose stiffened, color fading from her face. “Wait, that’s today? Oh buck.”

“Language,” Daisy chided cheerfully. “There are fillies outside.”

Rose spun to face him, ears flattening. “Hey, uh… Tracy? Do you think you could stand out front for a…” She glanced to Lily.

“A few hours at least.”

“A few hours?” she repeated. “Please?”

“I, uh…” He should head straight home and get some sleep. “I guess I could try out the new sales terminal? I’ll have to teach you three how to use it, but… I could help for a little while.”

“It’s easy!” Rose helped him move the tablet out past the curtain, settling it to one side of the stall’s front so it wouldn’t obscure the inventory display sewn into the curtain. “Just ask ponies what they want and tell us. Little things we’ll bring out right away. Any big customers, call for me and I’ll consult with them before taking the order.”

“Sure, but—” She vanished through the curtain without another word.

And just like that, Tracy was outside manning the stall. Excuses bubbled in his mind, popping away in seconds for not seeming convincing enough. He could’ve insisted, maybe gone back to get the rest he deserved.

But whenever he thought of it, he couldn’t help but remember Rose’s relief at seeing her records finally corrected. Something so simple, one of the few things his qualifications let him offer, had made a difference.

He could stand at a flower stall for her, if it would make her feel better. Besides, he would look so strange standing there that no one would want to buy anything anyway.

For a few minutes, that was exactly what happened. Tracy stood at the front of the flower stall, with the tablet resting in front of him with the inventory up. The sisters worked furiously in the back on their gigantic order, but it didn’t sound like they would finish anytime soon.

“You’re working for Rose now?” asked a voice from just ahead of him. He looked down, then slid to the side so the screen wouldn’t block his face. He’d seen this woman a few times now—once flying through the air, then again delivering letters. 

She wore the same uniform as the last two times he’d seen her, the exact same brown as an Earth delivery company he knew of. “Is that why you’re living there?”

He shrugged. “I, uh… I guess I am working for the Flower Sisters.” He would be taking his proceeds to buy flying lessons, anyway. That was kinda the same thing. “Do you want something?”

“Oh, yeah.” She twitched, and Tracy could see clearly how walleyed she was. Does that hurt? “Breakfast special, please. Whatever’s fresh.” She plopped three gold coins down onto the table beside the tablet.

He raised an eyebrow, glancing back at the sign mounted to the wall. Unfortunately for him, it was entirely pictographic, so he couldn’t verify if “breakfast special” was real. “You know this is a florist, right?”

“Oh, I know.” She puffed up her chest, standing straighter. “Back when I just volunteered for the weather team, I never could’ve bought something so nice. But now I can get everything Ditzy needs for school and even splurge a little.”

Tracy sighed, glancing to the side and sliding one hoof along the tablet’s surface. It still worked, at least if he touched the screen with the fleshy part between the hard sides of each hoof. She wasn’t wrong, there was a breakfast special on his product list. He tapped it with a hoof, waiting. “What’s the name for the order?”

“Muffins,” she said. “What’s your name again? I think you probably told me once, but I forgot. I’m not very good with names.”

“Tracy, pleased to meet you.” He sent the order, then extended a hoof in the strange yet familiar greeting.

A few seconds later came the whirring of the thermal printer, along with several gasps.

“They’ll have it right out,” Tracy said, only a little smugness seeping into his voice. 

The gray mare only nodded, settling back on her haunches as though she hadn’t even noticed anything unusual about the order.

Fine with me, I probably shouldn’t start reselling computers in a world that barely has electricity.

The curtains parted, and Rose emerged from within, clutching a paper plate by the rim in her mouth. The contents were basically just a pile of trimmings, probably from the same order they were making, though it was scattered with a dozen or so little blooms. “Good morning, Muffins.”

It looked more like a scoop of someone’s green bin than breakfast, but Muffins didn’t seem to notice. She only beamed, taking the plate in her mouth. “Good morning, Rose! Thanks for breakfast!” She gathered it up, vanishing away through the stalls.

“I keep forgetting you people eat that,” Tracy muttered, mostly to himself. “It’s not just weird desserts you make for special occasions. You just eat yard waste.”

“We do not!” Rose bopped him lightly on the nose with a hoof, glaring. “The Flower Sisters serve only the freshest flowers.”
> Chapter 22
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The longer Tracy remained at the stall, the greater hunger and exhaustion began to weigh on him. It might seem like day, but as the sun reached noon that meant midnight in the “real” world. Six hours of sleep if he could get home right then.

He’d probably have settled for a Rockstar, if there were any for sale in an alien world. But there were no disgusting energy drinks for sale, at least not at any of the neighboring stalls. 

There were more customers than he might’ve thought for a little flower stand on no particular day. But Tracy couldn’t tell what percentage of them only stopped because he was someone new, or because they saw something interesting on the table to ask about.

He was near to giving up before Rose emerged with a tray of chilled drinks and a plate of flowers to snack on. He probably would’ve ignored them, but he was so hungry.

With nothing but old curly fries on his tongue, the flowers were a welcome change. Light and crunchy, and better than any salad he could remember. That wasn’t a high bar, since Tracy had never much cared for salads in the first place.

Someone tapped the table with a claw, loud enough that he looked up from his plate. “Sorry, was just…”

The market seemed suddenly deserted. Curtains at neighboring stands had closed, or ponies were mysteriously looking the other way. A young mare with her child emerged from the edge of a street, then turned to dart the other way.

A creature towered over Tracy, taller than anything he’d yet seen in Equestria. Even his brief glimpse of their princess was small by comparison. But it was more than his sheer height—the creature defied any conception of evolution or even intelligent design. A mismatch of body parts, none quite looking like they belonged. 

He smiled, but the expression never reached his red eyes. “Don’t mind me, you can finish that up. You must be exhausted.”

I know that voice. He’d only heard it a few times, but the memory had been so traumatizing that it was permanently fixed in place now. This could be only one creature. “Discord?”

The alien straightened, puffing out his chest in satisfaction. “Ah, you recognized me. Touching, Tracy. Truly I’m flattered that our first meeting was so memorable.” He ran one claw around the table. As he did, a little replica of Tracy’s car just appeared there, as though put there by the most talented magician. It drove along the edge, until it smacked into his tablet and crashed into a little fireball. 

Tracy shuddered, staring at the realistic glass windows. I didn’t just see myself die, I didn’t just see myself die…

As quickly as it had come, the illusion vanished. “W-what can I do for you?” he asked, looking up into the demon’s eyes. If he didn’t look anywhere else, maybe he would be okay. “I haven’t broken my contract.”

“Not recently, no,” Discord agreed. “And fortunate you haven’t. I just dread collections. Best that we all just stay civil. I’m not here for you, I’m here to place an order for some flowers. It is a bit last-minute, but I’m sure the proprietor can arrange for me. I’d like the Spring arrangement, double sized. Marigold and Daffodil. Please.”

Tracy looked reluctantly back to his screen, but there were no horrors on it. Discord’s order was one of the options, and he punched it in without asking for a name. “When do you need it?”

“Before close,” Discord answered. “It’s for a friend’s birthday. She’s going to the party, but she’s never really been a fan of crowds. When she gets home, she’ll want something simple. This will be perfect.”

Tracy processed the order, then accepted a large pile of bits. Discord didn’t even bother counting them, just smacking down a handful without concern for their value.

“Bit of friendly advice, free of charge.” Discord leaned in close, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Many bat ponies have issues staying awake at night. See a doctor if that’s bothering you—they make great spells for it. Just remember, magic always has a price.”

Then he turned, striding confidently from the market. “You forgot your ch—” Tracy trailed off, staring down at the pile of discarded bits. He shrugged, and tossed the rest into the register beside so many others. It would have to be good enough.

A few seconds later, and the curtains behind him ruffled. He glanced back, and Rose poked out from inside, clutching the thermal paper with Discord’s order on it. “Was that…”

He nodded. “It was. My landlord. I guess yours too, since we live in the same place. Guess he needs some flowers.”

“He didn’t do anything to you?” Rose pulled him away from the table, looking him over like a doctor performing a quick checkup. “No, you look the same. Good.”

“He wouldn’t hurt anypony,” Lily called from inside. “Not anymore. He’s reformed or whatever, right?”

“Right,” Rose repeated, voice doubtful. “We’ve been keeping you long enough, Tracy. You should probably head home.”

He should, right then. The exhaustion might not be so bad yet, but it would be in the morning. “Before I do, I need to show you how to enter a few orders.”

He wrapped one wing around her shoulder, walking her over to the tablet. “It’s not as complicated as it seems, watch. We’ll go through it.”

It might not be complicated, but it still took about a half hour to explain it all. Certainly he’d been perfectly efficient the entire time and never been distracted by how close she was. 

How does she smell like that? It would’ve been so much easier to go back inside and get some sleep if Rose had smelled like a barn.

It was well past lunchtime when he finally finished and waved goodbye. Rose returned to her panicked preparation, and he made his slow way back across Ponyville.

Each time he crossed it, he felt a little safer about the trip. It might be another world, but Equestria had rules, and he was learning quickly. 

Maybe I’ll start making trips out here on weekends.

Another few big orders, and he’d be learning how to fly for sure. I should order a GoPro.

Finally settling his bedroom door resulted in a painful reminder of just how out of sync he was pushing himself. He peeked out the window, ignoring the distant sirens and any other signs there might be people close enough to see. 

The moon was well along its path through the sky, and the number on his watch was much higher than it ought to be. Guess if I start now I can at least get a few hours.

Getting to sleep was easy. Getting himself up for work a few hours later, not so much. But he managed, opening the little minifridge under his desk and snatching another energy drink to sip on his way to work.

It helped, though that didn’t make the next eight hours particularly enjoyable. He probably spent half of it staring at AutoCAD, imagining how to shape the block of metal in front of him without actually doing any subtraction. 

“Hey Tracy, don’t forget!” Janet called, as he passed her desk on the way out of work. “You’re coming with us to O’Conner’s tomorrow, right? You’re not missing again.”

“Sure, yeah,” he agreed, without much enthusiasm. He didn’t have the energy to argue, really. Friday would be one of the best days to spend time on that side. But a week from Saturday was his first flying lesson, assuming the flower shop made enough to pay for it. It could still work. “I’ll be there.”

And he was. It really should’ve been everything he’d ever wanted. He was surrounded by other engineers, ready to welcome him into a lifetime of productive service. There was so much money in that bar that he didn’t have to buy a single drink.

Even so, he was eager when closing time arrived and he was finally able to Uber home, without getting any of the numbers from the colleagues that had interested him during his first few months.

He helped again with the shop on Monday, mostly to check in on how the POS device was working. The other sisters still hadn’t learned, and there were plenty of duplicate and obviously incorrect orders. But that was easy enough to fix, and it meant more time working beside Rose.

“I’ve got good news!” she proclaimed, fiddling in the register and withdrawing a modest stack of bits. “This is your first paycheck. You can keep it, or I could reserve your spot in the flying class. We will have to keep paying every few weeks. But at this rate, you’ll have more and more bits left over each week.”

Tracy nudged one of the gold coins with one of his hooves. I wonder what these turn into if I cross the border. Paper money was completely unchanged, he’d already learned that just from the spare cash in his jeans. But if these coins were made of gold, maybe there was a way to get cash out of Equestria after all.

It would be something worth investigating, assuming things went well. “I won’t be able to stay for very many hours when I visit,” he said. “Mostly just to keep an eye on your records and service your equipment. If I stay out here too long, then I don’t get to sleep before work. But sure, go ahead and pay for the flying lesson. I’m still nervous, but it can’t be that bad. If it’s for ponies who don’t know how to fly when they should… I should be in the right place.”

Rose nodded, knocking the pile into a plain envelope and slipping it away. “I forget how weird time is for you. Your life is… entirely on that side, isn’t it? All your friends, everything you do. Two lives would be overwhelming.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. Though I left most of my friends behind in Ely. They still talked online sometimes. But he’d become so bad at most of the games they played that both of their last few sessions together had ended badly. He could only keep blaming network latency for so long before they gave up. “But I’m only here for a year. Even if it’s stressful now, I’m just trying to think of the person I’ll be when time is up. I think he’ll be happy I took the time to get to know Equestria. I just need to start taking more pictures, so I have more to remember it.”

“I can’t lend you my camera,” Rose muttered, ears flattening. “We had to sell it a few years ago, back when we still thought we could keep the stand afloat without any debt.”

I can probably do something about that. He shrugged her off with a wing. “Don’t worry about it, Rose. You’ve got enough on your plate. Just focus on what you can control. Are you still going to come with me to Canterlot?”

“Couldn’t stop me,” Rose answered, weak smile returning. “After what happened during the Equinox, somepony has got to keep an eye on you.”

She didn’t sound like she meant it. I wish I had some money of my own. I could take her out to dinner after.

His face reddened, and he turned back to the tablet, trying to think of anything else. Pull out of the dive, Tracy. She’s a horse from another universe. You’re a promising young engineer with an actual future with actual humans. Don’t even.

Granted, it did annoy him that half the ponies he met already thought he was Rose’s boyfriend. Maybe he should try and embrace the position.
> Chapter 23
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day of Tracy’s flying lesson arrived without much fanfare, all things considered. He’d forced himself to stay up quite a few hours the night before, so he could sleep longer the next day and not feel so much like a zombie while in Equestria.

One quick check of social media before he left to join Rose did leave him with something unusual to think about. There was a message waiting for him in group chat, sent by Keith from back home. “We haven’t seen you in too long, Tracy. It’s time for an intervention.”

His request for clarification went unanswered though, so he clicked the laptop closed and headed outside. He thought about fighting with the silly vests and socks, but ultimately it just seemed like more trouble than it was worth. He wrapped the elastic of the new camera around his foreleg, then met Rose in the kitchen.

“Was wondering if you’d given up,” she called, grinning weakly at him. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

“I don’t think so?” He shrugged his wings weakly. “Mostly I’m afraid of getting lost in a world I don’t belong in with no way to make it back here.”

“Well that’s why I’m here!” Rose nudged him affectionately with her shoulder, grinning. “Just relax. We’ll be taking the train straight there. Class at four, so we should have time to get lunch somewhere first. I know a few places you might like, assuming you’re not going to spit it out again.”

“Just don’t give me bugs,” he answered. “I can do flowers and green stuff, but not bugs.”

“Green stuff,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “You need some remedial education about food, while we’re at it. What do you even eat on the other side of that door?”

Things I’ve never seen here, he thought. Earth horses could apparently eat meat sometimes, or so a google search had told him. But he hadn’t ever seen any for sale in Ponyville. Or in their fridge, for that matter.

But as little as he’d enjoyed the interview with Lyra, part of him was excited to get a good look at the rest of Rose’s world. He’d never gone down the road that led to the train station, or seen the crowds of creatures thronging there. Mostly naked, though none seemed to care. He tucked his tail anyway, regretting that he’d left his not-socks at home.

“Canterlot Express, now boarding!” called a conductor with an adorable little train tattooed on his butt. Or… those were “cutie marks,” weren’t they? “All ponies aboard! Prepare to show your tickets!”

Steam billowed from an authentic-looking steam engine, which led only a single passenger car and half a dozen filled with cargo.

Rose hadn’t brought much either, other than a thin satchel over one side that Tracy took for a light purse. She flashed a few sheets of paper as they passed the conductor, and led him through the train to some empty seats.

“What is Canterlot like?” he asked, as the conductor shut the door to their car. There were only a few others with them—three children, with a blue pony watching them like a babysitter. He tuned their voices out easily enough.

“Canterlot is… wonderful. It’s where Celestia’s castle is. It’s where the best restaurants and fashion and other things fancy ponies all brag about are. My sisters and I used to go all the time, but now that things have slowed down… usually we can’t justify the expense.”

“You sure we can do this?” Tracy asked, shifting nervously in his chair. “I don’t want you to strain your finances taking me to this.”

Rose pushed away his wing with a foreleg. “Settle down, stallion. You eared those bits and way more. A few tickets and some night school are nothing. Just keep everything working, so we have the bits to spare, okay?”

He nodded weakly. He couldn’t quite tell how sincere she was being, but he didn’t want to ask. That would sound like he didn’t trust her, which wasn’t the kind of message he wanted to send before a trip into the capital of a foreign country.

Tracy had never been on a train before, but the trip wasn’t that different from what he’d expected. They rode for about an hour, past farmland and a few villages like Ponyville. The little engine seemed to struggle as they reached a set of craggy mountains, and finally began to climb. 

He caught his first glimpse of Canterlot from the side, as they approached it over a bridge. Tracy stared, utterly dumbfounded by the engineering.





In less than an hour, Ponies had gone from simple farmers to creatures that could make castles out of mountainsides, and build a city into tiers cut in the rock. “Why would anyone want to build a city up here?” he asked, though his voice was still awed. “There’s no river, no farmland…”

“Dunno.” Rose seemed to be watching him more than the window. “It’s been the center of Equestria for ages now. I couldn’t tell you why they wanted to move. I do know they get most things up from the villages all around. Trains like ours come in with enough to keep the city fed, and go out again with clothes or whatever ponies want to buy.”

It wasn’t much detail, but she sounded bored even sharing that much. Tracy didn’t press, just waited patiently as they came to a stop in an impressive station of wrought iron and marble. 

Tracy had never been to Paris, but he imagined the trip would probably go something like what happened next. Dozens of little avenues and boulevards were crowded with boutique shops and thronged by creatures who managed to make him feel underdressed. Many of the locals wore dresses or fancy suits, though few actually covered anything important.

Like clothes people sometimes bought for their dogs, and forced them to wear for photos online.

Granted, some of them pranced around a little like those dogs, moving about through invisible social circles of popularity and influence that were entirely inscrutable to Tracy.

“Should I have worn more for this?” he whispered, following Rose as close as he could through the crowd. “Most of them aren’t naked.”

“That’s an interesting choice of words.” Rose stuck her tongue out. “I guess maybe you’re from somewhere fancy after all? That little town you told Lyra about… did ponies dress like this?”

He barely suppressed a laugh. “No. Think more… Wranglers and cowboy boots.”

Rose grinned back, apparently satisfied. “So don’t change who you are for the ponies you’re around. We aren’t here for the Grand Galloping Gala. There’s a little cafe down this way, you’ll love it.”

She broke into a trot, forcing him to hurry to keep up. A few weeks ago, he probably would’ve just tripped on his face and looked even stupider. But he managed this time, weaving from sidewalk to sidewalk. Canterlot had proper streets in the way Ponyville hadn’t, though there was nothing like automobiles. Every vehicle was pony-driven, mostly rickshaw carts. A few were actual carriages, with staff who pulled it one minute then stepped aside to act as butlers for the creatures inside the next.

How does your society work, anyway? This whole time he’d just sort of assumed they were basically the same, maybe with a few puns in the names and a little less technology. But maybe this place wasn’t innocent at all, and he was actually an ant hovering under the magnifying lens of a vast system of nobles, ready to burn him to dust if he edged a footstep out of line.

But nothing came to crush them on the way to the cafe. He caught a few creatures in uniform, and maybe they were police. But they didn’t give Tracy a second glance.

He was certainly feeling hungry enough by the time they finally reached the cafe. Spice filled the air, and something sizzled from the back of the shop. “Equestria has burger shops after all?”

Rose stopped in the doorway, glaring. “You think we came all this way for hayburgers?” She slid past him into the shop, without any particular regard for his personal space. You’re doing that with your tail on purpose, Rose. Cut it out.

He followed her to a table, eyes going suddenly wide as he realized what was going on. Is this a date?

Restaurants weren’t really that different in Equestria, and the next hour went about the way he would’ve expected. The strange reliance on pictographs continued to Canterlot as well, which meant he could’ve ordered even if he couldn’t read the language. Which he still could, for reasons that made about as much sense as looking like a bat-horse.

Rose had looked a little annoyed when, despite her insistence, he’d found and ordered a burger anyway. At least it didn’t taste like some farmer had made it with the worst animal feed on their farm.

“We come all this way, and you still order that?” She stared across the table, eyes narrowing at the partially eaten burger. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Was I supposed to get what you’re eating? I, uh… can’t really tell one salad apart from another. I’ve never been a fan of leaves.”

Rose looked like she might be about to strangle him, or at least start throwing her utensils across the table in his direction. She didn’t, though maybe that was just because she hadn’t touched them at all.

Most of the other patrons had those weird horn-things, and levitated everything around the way Lyra had. That still doesn’t seem fair.

“Nopony who lives with me is going to call this ‘leaves.’” She took a few thoughtful bites, tail swishing forcefully back and forth. “From now on, quit buying rotten food on your way home. I’ll find something fresh and have it ready each morning until you don’t embarrass the Flower Sisters anymore.”

Tracy opened his mouth to argue—but stopped short. She might be saying it like she was a professor frustrated with his low performance. But she was actually offering to prepare who knew how many meals.

Are you just trying to get me to come home sooner, instead of eating out?

“I’m still not sure why that brisket sandwich was so awful. I used to get lunch at that Arby’s every day, and it was only good stuff.”

Rose waved a threating hoof across the table. “Well, you find Arby and tell her you don’t want any more of whatever a brisket is until further notice. It can’t be good for you, smelling that way.”

The urge to argue was rising, though the absurdity of what she said did temper his feelings a little. “Alright, Rose. But on one condition.” He spread his wings a little wider in his seat, turning to the window so he could look up at the sloped mountain terrace of Canterlot. 

“When I finally figure out this flying thing, after however long it takes—you come with me to the other side of that door, and you let me treat you to dinner in San Jose.”

For a few moments she was completely silent, eyes widening with shock and surprise. Or… was that embarrassment? Horse expressions were sometimes so easy to read, but sometimes so arcane.

All the apparent indignance at his identification of “leaves” seemed to melt away, and her voice became suddenly timid. “I didn’t think you liked me, Tracy. Couldn’t really blame you. I did think you were leading an invasion of Ponyville.”

That isn’t the kind of like you’re asking about. Why are you saying it like we’re still in high school? It was almost charming. “I changed my mind,” he said, as confidently as he could. “Maybe you did too. Anyway, I couldn’t live with the guilt if you just kept treating me to things over here. Sooner or later you might as well cross over and see where I come from.”

“Not until you can fly,” she said, laughing nervously. “That way you focus on your lessons! Regular trips all the way to Canterlot mean my sisters need to run the stand on their own. I’m still not sure they’ve figured out the tablet.”

“Sure. That should give me more time to plan something fun.”
> Chapter 24
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy wasn’t sure what he was expecting from “flying night school.” A dingy community college somewhere, with ceiling tiles missing and flickering fluorescent lights. People would rush in from multiple shifts, and drag themselves back home again. 

But either Equestria didn’t have anything like that, or their capital wasn’t the place to find it. Rose escorted him to the side of a building high in the city, near the oversized castle and other government buildings. 

He slowed as they approached, steps coming nervously as the castle came into view. Not even in photos of ancient medieval fortresses had he ever seen anything quite like it. “What kind of foundation do you use to hold up all this weight?” he asked, lowering his voice. “The amount of sheer stress that stone must be putting on the mountain.”

Rose stared blankly back at him for a few seconds. He should probably learn to read what those pony gestures meant, because it seemed like exasperation. Maybe she was just confused about why he cared? “I have no idea what you’re asking,” she said. “It’s an amazing castle though, isn’t it? When Celestia rebuilt, they really spared no expense.”

He nodded. “I know some engineers back home who would love to see the blueprints. Whatever you did with the foundations must be magical.”

“Probably,” Rose agreed. “I don’t know anything about construction magic, or lots of other kinds. I think they had a team of earth pony engineers on the renovations after the invasion. Not sure how they built it before that.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “The princesses get real cagey about history questions. Everypony knows how old they are, but they mostly just let historians guess.”

She fell silent as a little group of other ponies squeezed past them. Tracy would’ve ignored them completely, except that he recognized them. They were the same creatures he’d seen on the train. Only two had wings, but they were headed for the same building.

“You guys going to flight school too?” he asked, spreading his wings nervously. He looked at the older, light blue one, but she wasn’t the one who answered.

“I am!” declared an orange-and-purple filly, puffing out her chest. Her voice sounded around thirteen, though guessing pony ages was still a skill he hadn’t mastered.

“If Fairweather Campus can’t teach you, nopony can,” the older pony said. “They’ve got a guarantee and everything.”

Tracy and Rose followed beside them, walking the rest of the way to the building. “She deserves the best chance. If you’ve never picked up flying either, I’m sure they’ll be able to help you too.”

“Guess we’ll be in the same class,” the filly said, her wings buzzing so fast they blurred. But she barely lifted into the air, only a few inches, before dropping back down, panting. “I’m Scootaloo!”

“And we’re just here for moral support,” a white unicorn added. “There’s not enough lessons in the world to teach us how to fly.”

“Tracy,” he said, waving weakly with a wing. “Guess we should probably get in there, huh?”

They got into line, while Rose and the others took benches in the waiting room. 

The night school clearly didn’t teach anything else—the walls were lined with photographs of flying ponies, most wearing skin-tight jumpsuits and goggles and doing complex maneuvers. 

There were a few aerodynamic diagrams, similar to what he’d read in the one class that had ever covered it in college. So ponies understood lift the same way humans did, that was reassuring. Just so long as they don’t push me off a cliff.

The man behind the desk was like something out of a film himself, his mane gray and a jacket covered with military-looking patches. 

He took one look at Tracy, eyes narrowing as Tracy pushed the ticket towards him. “I’m uh… new this week,” he said. “Total beginner. This is the flight school, right?”

“Total beginner.” The pony leaned forward, his gray wings shifting under the jacket. “Been a long time since we had a bat come this way. Thought you all grew up in caves. How’d you fly up to take my class?”

He suppressed a laugh. “There are some old mines near my house I guess, but I wouldn’t say I lived down them. I’ve never needed to fly before. I still don’t need to, but… it feels wrong not to learn while I can.”

The stallion snorted, finally taking the voucher and gesturing. “Things are a little different for bats, but the magic all works the same. Just expect to do some extra reading in your spare time. Practice material for bats isn’t as good. And if you wanted to go into the upper aerobatics, forget it right now. Those wings are for stealth, not speed. You won’t get within bucking distance of the rainbow barrier.”

Tracy stared, trying to process the words of someone who was at once so curt and incomprehensible at the same time. It probably wasn’t a good idea to admit he didn’t know anything though, or else they might not take him. I hope this class doesn’t have pre-reqs. Maybe I should be focusing more on the real world.

“That won’t be a problem,” he said. “I’m just here for the basics.”

There were several other students already waiting, so Tracy could swiftly abandon the awkwardness of a class alone with a kid. But while Rose had assured him the class would be for adults, the Equestrian definition of “adult” clearly didn’t match anything he knew. 

There was only one other in attendance he guessed might qualify, based on her voice alone. No other bats either, which made him feel a little self-conscious. Had Rose picked the wrong class?

He followed the little group into a cramped classroom, uncomfortably warm with the spring sun and an oversized blackboard against one wall. 

The other students got to know each other, but Tracy found himself with very little to say. He couldn’t even tell them where he was from, not with the kid here. Scootaloo was actually from there, she’d call out the lie for what it was.

They fell silent abruptly as a large figure darkened the doorway. Even Tracy felt suddenly small in her shadow—a black and white creature, with a pointed beak and wickedly-sharp claws. The floor shook slightly as she walked in, oversized wings spread. 

“You’re all here for introduction to aeronautics,” she said, stalking to the blackboard. “If you belong somewhere else, now’s your chance not to waste my time. I won’t be tolerating any time-wasting tonight, or any night. My class is here to learn.”

None of the horses moved. Tracy’s heart began to race, as he remembered his material science class and another particularly unyielding professor. This is why I’m here, it’s okay if she pushes us.

“I’ve got reading for each of you,” she said, banging open a squeaky filing cabinet from against the wall and withdrawing a stack of worn-looking books. “You’ll be taking this home, and bringing it back next week after understanding everything inside.”

She began passing them out, pacing between the worn desks. She extended one halfway towards Tracy, then seemed to see his wings and snatched it back. “I’ve got a different one for you, bat. Hold on.” She finished her rounds, then opened a lower drawer and withdrew a single book. This one was much thicker and more technical, instead of the colorful laminate on the others. 

That other one did say I’d have to do more reading. “Some of you are probably looking at this classroom feeling disappointed. Aren’t we supposed to be flying? Yes, actually, you are. This is the only session we’ll be having in a classroom. Every week from here on, you’ll be out on the practice ground, or up above it. So if you’re scared of heights, you’ve got exactly one week to get over it before reality crushes that fear.”

Ponies wilted at her pronouncement. Tracy couldn’t blame them—with golden eyes and a sharp beak, she looked like something that might be flying up there hunting them. There are multiple intelligent species here. He should’ve known. There were other things in Ponyville that hadn’t looked very much like ponies either.

How much more is there to know about this place? Maybe he should go back to that library and see if he could borrow an encyclopedia. 

“My name is Giselle,” the instructor said, snatching a piece of chalk off the board and stalking over to it. “We have exactly one session in this classroom, and each of you is going to give me your undivided attention until we’re done. Today’s session begins with definitions. Open your books, we’ll be starting with pitch, roll, and y—”

The class went on for a few hours, long enough that Tracy began feeling self-conscious about the pony who had brought him. Ponies didn’t have cell phones, she must be losing her mind out there.

It was much the same stuff he’d expect to learn studying for a private pilot’s license back on earth, with only minor changes. The basics of how flight worked, the anatomy of a wing, which movements were meant to produce what result while flying, and a few basic patterns to get started with takeoff and landing.

The other half of the class was basically driving school all over again, with a crash course in Equestrian air-travel laws. Which areas were off-limits, how to recognize unsafe air, not landing on people’s houses. All fairly self-explanatory, even if his own world had no reason for such detailed regulation of something people couldn’t do.

Compared to his senior year, Tracy had no trouble focusing. It was just the one class, the last he’d have to do before their future sessions were practical instruction. He could sit through that, even if the book they gave him had nothing in common with what the others were reading.

“You, bat,” Giselle said, when the other students were filing out. He was one of the last, partially because he was up against the wall. Partially because he was afraid Rose might’ve gotten bored and gone home, stranding him forever in an alien world he didn’t understand. “Study that whole thing between now and next week. I’ve flown with a few of you before, and the rules aren’t that different… but they are different. You’ll need to refer to what other thestrals have come up with during drills, rather than what works for a pegasus. Know it back-to-front.”

Tracy looked down at the book, so heavy it had doubled the weight of his satchel by itself. About the size of a college textbook, in fact. “Okay,” he said, worry rising. The demand made sense, but actually keeping the instruction would be much harder. How the hell would he find the time?

“Good,” she went on. “Second week won’t be that hard, but third we do the cliff-jump. I don’t want to be cleaning one of you off the rocks, got it?”

He nodded, hurrying out the door behind the other students. Has that happened before?

Rose was the last pony left in the waiting room—even that gruff-looking older stallion was gone from the office. She was a little bleary-eyed, her mane disheveled. Maybe she’d been napping. “You lived,” she said. “Wasn’t sure how it would turn out.”

“Stop it. Though I feel bad you came all this way. If I have to do a few months of this, you’ll go insane with boredom.”

She shrugged. “Was just waiting the first time. Once I’m sure you aren’t going to burn anything down, you can probably make the trip yourself. Or maybe I’ll visit friends in the city.”

She gestured urgently for the doorway. “We can’t miss the evening express back to Ponyville, though. You lived, but Lily and Daisy on their own with your magic? I hope they didn’t burn down the flower stand.”

“It’s just a tablet,” he countered. “What’s the worst that could happen?”




> Chapter 25
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy settled back into his seat, watching as the lights of another world blurred by. His exhaustion was palpable, and the rhythmic motion of the train threatened to settle him to sleep. Far away down the distant mountain he could see little villages, surrounded by fields and orchards.

“Am I losing you?” Rose asked, waving something in front of him. A glass, with steam rising from within. 

He flushed, realizing she’d been offering it to him. “Tea?”

She nodded. “You look like you’re going to sleep in your seat. Classroom can’t be that exhausting, can it? It’s barely nightfall.”

“Means I’ve been up all night,” he said, taking the glass and sipping cautiously. It took all his concentration to hold it with one hoof and not drop it, sipping slowly. So there were still annoying things about this place. Maybe if he could levitate things around like the horned ones could, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Or if he’d had claws like Giselle.

The tea tasted vaguely leafy, but he didn’t question what might be inside. Only a few sips, and he already felt more awake. Probably placebo, but he’d take it. “Remember, your world and mine are twelve hours off. My daytime is your night. Over there, I’m not a bat. I have the same sleep schedule as everybody else.”

Rose nodded absently, disbelieving. “I mean, you say that. But I don’t think you’d be a bat here if you weren’t a bat there. It means something, which tribe you are. It’s your heritage, where your parents were from, the things they believed in, the things they fight for. It’s why Ponyville still wraps up winter the old-fashioned way, why we keep our dirt roads. We’ve got traditions.”

He finished the glass, feeling a little more awake the longer he gave the tea to kick-in. “I think my family was from, like… Holland or something? It’s been a long time since I asked. Wasn’t really on my mind before, and now…” He sighed. “What you wish you did, right? Can’t change the past now.”

Rose reached over, resting a hoof on his leg. She met his eyes, her own oversized and watery. “Did something happen?” 

He never would’ve answered that question a month ago. But the Roseluck who sat beside him wasn’t the same creature anymore. After working together on her stand, and coming all this way out with him, Tracy was a little more willing.

“Mom and Dad…”  He sniffed, wings folding tightly to his sides. “Car accident. Some lunatic coming the wrong way down the interstate at a hundred twenty…”

He should’ve realized that wouldn’t mean anything to her. Rose stared blankly back at him, mouth hanging open. “What’s that mean?”

“They’re dead,” he finally said. “Both my parents. Coroner told me it would’ve been too fast for them to feel any pain. I guess I’m supposed to be happy about that or something.” He looked away, staring out the window. “Sorry. I know your world is like… perfect or whatever. Literal magical unicorns and fairytale castles. I shouldn’t talk about where I came from.”

Rose didn’t say anything for a long time. She didn’t touch him either, though her chair never squeaked. She remained beside him, probably watching. Or maybe as unsure of what to do as he was. 

“Mine too. Er… gone, that is. During the changeling invasion. They were in Canterlot, providing flowers to the Royal Wedding. Not that I’m trying to say I know what it’s like. I have my sisters. Do you have any siblings?”

Changeling Invasion? Didn’t she think I was related to that when I first got here? Maybe that was why she’d been so painfully insistent about Tracy’s background. She didn’t want more ponies to lose their families.

He turned back. He should’ve known from her voice, but she was crying too. She hadn’t fought it as well as he had, and he didn’t blame her for that either. His tragedy had just been an accident, not some invasion. Equestria seemed so peaceful—he hadn’t even seen weapons here until the royal guards. How could they fight off invaders with an attitude like that?

“No immediate family left,” he answered. “A few distant relatives, but we were never close. My grandparents died when I was little, all natural. Both my parents came from small families. No aunts and uncles, no brothers or sisters for me.”

Roseluck reached out again, patting him on the shoulder with one leg. “I’m sorry I… asked,” she said. “I know most ponies don’t like talking about painful memories. I don’t.”

He chuckled. “Me neither. We could talk about something else, like…” He reached to one side, hefting the oversized flying book out onto his lap. Despite the dense print and diagrams inside, the cover was mostly dedicated to a cartoonish flying pony with bat wings like himself.

The title Thestrals Fly, Too! was printed in exaggerated, cartoonish letters. “Like learning all this in one week. I’m an okay reader, but not this good. Do you think our local library has the SparkNotes?”





Tracy made it back home, probably thanks to the tea. He wanted to go right to bed, but fought off the exhaustion as long as he could. All this time in Equestria was going to wreak havoc on his sleep schedule.

Getting up for work certainly wasn’t enjoyable after the weekend, but he managed. His new “guide to flight” handbook was as unaffected by the transition as paper money, plotting another variable in the “inconsistency of gateway” tracker. But that was alright.

With the help of a few early morning espressos from the work barista, he managed well enough. It wasn’t quite quitting time when he got his first call of the day, so surprising that he nearly fell out of his desk. Who would be calling him now, instead of just sending messages via the company Slack?

He blushed, answering as quickly as he could.

Anton’s voice answered, as casual as it was abrasive. “Tracy, buddy! Been awhile since we talked.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Look man, could we do this in an hour or so? I’m still at work, can’t talk.”

“Sure, sure,” Anton answered. “But one question, real quick. You’re working at Apex still, right? That big campus with the fences and lots of security?”

“Yep,” he answered. There was no sense trying to argue with Anton. But if he could satisfy the questions fast enough to bore him, he’d give up. “Wait a minute. How’d you know that?”

Anton didn’t answer for a few seconds, but Tracy was sure he heard other voices in the background. Muffled laughter, maybe? “Do you know where the Stonefire is? Pretty close to where you work?”

“I pass it every morning.”

“And you probably get off at five, right?” Anton didn’t wait for a response. “When you get off, go straight there. We’ll have a table waiting.” He hung up.

Oh shit. It took Tracy all of a few seconds to realize what that meant, and to think through some of the implications. His friends had come all the way down from Ely, without telling him.

He floated through the last hour of work, accomplishing very little and hyperventilating quite a lot. He caught Janet’s eyes as he passed her desk on the way out, waving weakly. She didn’t wave back, watching him with obvious concern. 

It felt like his brain had locked-up at the arrival of a single incongruous fact. They couldn’t be here, and he didn’t know how to possibly get rid of them. But he’d have to think of something, right?

They’re the only friends I’ve got left. I can’t lose them too.

The place was packed, so Tracy had a few seconds to wait in the back of the line and make his order. He scanned the restaurant, and eventually found where they were sitting off in a corner.

They already had their food, for who knew how long now. There was Shane’s bright red hair, just as disheveled as ever. And Marshall’s drawl, somehow loud enough to carry over so many other conversations.

Eventually he ordered, got his plastic number, and made his awkward way over. “Hey guys,” he said, arms folded as awkwardly as his wings the first day of flight-class. “Been a minute.”

They scooted down, making room for him. “Sure has,” Anton said. “We were starting to wonder if you died.”

“Or just hated us,” Shane said. He shifted uneasily, sipping once from a glass of ice and a little layer of brown at the bottom. There were a few empty glasses beside him. “Why’d you stop gaming, exactly? You made us start looking for a second random every match.”

“Shane means, we’re happy to see you again,” Marshall said. “Ain’t that right, Shane?”

He nodded faintly, though there was little sign of acknowledgement there. “Obviously we’re happy to see you. Happy that you’re… living the dream out here in the big city. Anton, can we eat now?”

Anton shrugged. “I’m not your damn mom.” They ate for a bit. Tracy’s food arrived and they went through that too. His friends looked and smelled like they’d been on the road for a long time, and probably could’ve eaten twice as much.

They chatted about everything and nothing—the way things were going back home, how Ely was always the same and all the same local characters were causing all the same chaos they always did.

But then glasses emptied, and the subject turned to something closer to home. “Some of those things you said about your place,” Anton continued, as though they’d planned that the whole time. “That duplex you were sharing with some stranger? You said they had to be seen to be believed. So we’re here to see it.”

“Mostly we’re here to make sure you don’t forget about us now that you’re rich and famous,” Shane said, a little later. “But something so crazy you couldn’t take pictures of it sounds pretty cool too.”

Tracy’s face went bright red. For a split second he thought he felt his tail moving too, though that was obviously just his imagination. He was in the real world, he obviously couldn’t have a tail here. 

“Oh, that! It’s nothing, I don’t know why I said it. Just like, uh… big bedbugs. You should’ve asked before coming all the way down here, saved the trip. Nothing to see at home!”

The three of them shared a look, one he recognized instantly. Utter, instant disbelief. 

“Grow op?” Marshall suggested. “Maybe they got you in on the profits in exchange for shutting up?”

“Couldn’t be,” Anton added. “We saw the listing. Not big enough to grow much. Isn’t it legal in California?”

“I have no idea,” Tracy answered, without a hint of irony. “I’m not getting a share of any—” Then he stopped, words catching in his throat. Technically he was getting a share of the profits. The profits of Rose’s flower stand, which went into paying for his night classes. 

Shane folded his hands on the table, glaring. “I see how it is. You take one trip out of a town as wholesome as ours, and you’re already a criminal kingpin. You probably don’t even need to work, do you? It’s just for show.” He was grinning, but Tracy could never quite tell with Shane. Sometimes he was joking, and sometimes he only sounded like it.

“I’m not growing anything in the house,” he declared, loud enough that a few people at nearby tables turned to stare in his direction. He winced, but surged ahead anyway. “It’s nothing guys, honest. I’m just… living the dream, just like you said. I got the job I always wanted, I’ve already paid off most of my college debt. There was never really that much from community college, but still! It’s all ordinary and boring and not worth investigating at all.”

“So you expect us to believe the bedbugs thing?” Anton said. “Come on, Tracy. We came out all this way, you can at least show us what was so crazy.”

He sighed, glaring down at his empty plate. But these were his friends, and they’d traveled so far. Maybe it was time someone else confirmed the absolute insanity of his contract. At least then people he knew were real could make sure he was feeling the same things.

“Tell you what,” he began, scooting out of the seat. “I know you guys probably want to pub-crawl for a bit, right? Wouldn’t you rather do that?”

“Nope,” they said together. 

Shane finished for them. “Drink later. Magical mystery tour first.”

“You guys came in the middle of the week, you realize.” But even as he said it, Tracy was fully resigned. It was time for someone else to know the truth.
> Chapter 26
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy spent the whole drive back home trying to think of a way to convince his friends to leave. He had black mold, he had rabid rats, he had typhoid in the pipes. All options sounded at once completely plausible and also utterly insane. By the time he was finally pulling up, he’d considered and rejected a dozen different stupid ideas. All of those things might prompt them to try and take him away, invoking Discord’s wrath. Or maybe they’d contact the city and get municipal property inspectors out, only to invoke Discord’s wrath a different way.

He parked in his usual place, and watched Anton’s old beat-up sedan sputter to a stop not far behind. Its windshield was half-covered with dead and smeared bugs, but they hadn’t bothered clearing them off. How can you guys even see through that?

Marshall hopped out of shotgun, looking the property over with a critical eye. He didn’t say anything, though, possibly searching it for signs of what was really wrong.

“Doesn’t look strange to me. Thought I’d be able to hear the wailing ghosts or whatever, if we got this close.” Anton slung his cell phone out of a pocket, taking a few pictures. At least they hadn’t grabbed their luggage.

“Before you get any closer, I have to warn you about a few things…” he said, turning to face them. None of his neighbors were out, though that wasn’t unusual. He didn’t even know any of their names, and hadn’t learned anything about their habits. He couldn’t exactly have the friendly chat on the porch, not when leaving first would mean they would see him change into a horse. “I had to sign a weird contract to move here.”

He closed the distance between them, lowering his voice and looking deadly serious. “I was going to get fired if I didn’t move into town, right? Everywhere was way too expensive, or I couldn’t get in without a local reference, or my credit wasn’t good enough. This was the only place I could find. The contract was cheap, but I basically signed my soul away to move in.”

“I see where this is going,” Shane said flatly. “This is the part where you say we can’t stay the night, isn’t it? Told you two we should’ve asked.”

“I’ll help you play for an Airbnb,” he interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “Hell, I’ll pay for the whole thing. But Shane is right, you should’ve asked. Showing up in the middle of the work week like this, I won’t be able to do very much while you’re here. It’s an awful lot of driving and time off for nothing.”

Anton shrugged ambivalently. “Eh, gas is pretty cheap, and the drive is fun. You should see the size of the station they built in Jean.”

Maybe we can avoid all this. He brought up the Airbnb app on his phone, scrolling through and finding a place that would fit the three of them. It took him less than a minute to finish things up. “There, booked. I know where in town it is too, if you want me to go with you over there. I know a good bar. Built like the inside of a pirate ship, it’s pretty—”

Anton cleared his throat, putting one hand on Tracy’s shoulder. “That’s all cool, Tracy. But you didn’t think of all that before we got here. That tells me there’s something serious going on, something maybe you want to tell us. I don’t think ‘not letting people spend the night’ is something so crazy you didn’t think we’d believe it.”

“I am curious,” Marshall said. “There’s no way you can’t show us. They’d never be able to make that legal, unless it was like a halfway house or something. Did you get into more trouble than you were willing to share?”

He swore under his breath, then turned towards the door. “Alright, fine. I’m going to tell you exactly what’s going on here. When I do, you’re going to think I’ve completely lost my mind. But before you call emergency services and try to have me evaluated, I want you to let me show you. You have to let me show you before you decide if I’m insane, okay? Also, nobody step inside yet. I have my reasons, just trust me.”

“Okay,” Shane said. “Now you got me interested again. It just wouldn’t be polite to leave after making such a big deal about it.”

“It’s going to be something stupid,” Marshall muttered. “I’m predicting someone famous used to live here, or maybe still does. That… second one would make more sense with not being allowed to have guests over. Famous person wants to pretend to be poor and live in a crappy apartment. You’re not allowed to film them or have anyone over, but otherwise it’s basically the same as anywhere else.”

“Kinda,” he said. “I do need you to put the phones away, actually. There’s… nothing in my contract about your violations, but it did say I needed to warn you that an ‘independent adjuster’ would get involved if any third parties broke the rules about photography. Trust me when I tell you, you do not want to screw with this guy. Don’t try to film.”

Anton stuck his phone away, looking reluctant. “Now you have us worried, Tracy. Just say it.”

He took a deep breath. “My contract is with the devil, or something like it. It has terms that can’t be broken, like… physically can’t be broken. And the apartment itself is in another universe.”

All three of them stared. A car drove by on the street behind them, somewhere far away a police siren rang out through the early evening. The silence became so complete he could even hear music playing through one of his neighbors’ walls, some loud R&B with beats that reverberated through the outdoors.

“Your apartment is in hell?” Anton asked, taking his words slowly. He pointed up at the house with one hand. “That apartment. The one that’s in San Jose. Is in hell?”

Told you that you’d all think I was insane. But it was too late to back away now. Once he’d opened his mouth, he’d committed to this. “Not hell, and… I think the door might be on this side, but everything else is over there. But you all just promised to let me show you. Watch.”

He made his way to the door, checking in both directions as he fumbled with the key. His hands were shaking with nervous anticipation now, but there was nothing more for it. He swung the door open, revealing the hallway leading inside.

If he expected the spell to react differently to having so many people there, he was disappointed. The doorway was just a door, in a plain concrete hallway with one of his raincoats on a hook. One of the few pony garments he had that provided actual modesty, though it rained so rarely in Ponyville that he hadn’t had a chance to use it yet.

Marshall’s voice was soft, like he was afraid Tracy might get spooked at a moment’s notice. “Tracy, that looks like an ordinary hallway. If this is a prank, could you skip to the punch line?”

Tracy took one last look up and down the street. There was no one looking, and now with his friends standing by the door there was little chance anyone would see him. They were closing in, in fact. Maybe to grab him and escort him to psychological care. Maybe just to offer moral support for the obvious breakdown he’d suffered. 

Oh no. Not before I’ve said my piece. “One more thing.” He held up a hand, stopping them. “You’ll be able to see the door working right away, because humans don’t exist on that side. Our species can’t cross, so you transform to look like them. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s extremely disorienting the first few times.”

“Alright now, Tracy.” Shane reached out with one hand, eyes wide with fear. “That’s quite enough of that. You said it would sound crazy… even you must recognize how unhinged that all sounds. Why don’t we find somewhere nice to sit down and have a chat about all this. Forget drinks, we can do ice cream. You like that better, right?”

He backed away, right up against the doorway. “First, I get to show you, then decide.” He crossed over the threshold, as he’d done hundreds of times before. The effect was immediate, just as it had been every other time he stepped through that door. His own familiarity had grown quite a bit, though, so he reacted swifter. Instead of falling over, Tracy slid neatly to all fours, letting his clothes adjust so they covered nothing and served basically no purpose, like always.

He spread his wings, grinning with pointed bat-fangs. “See? Still think I’m crazy?”





Anton’s face went white. Shane swore under his breath, turning and storming a few steps away, before stomping back to look again, breathless. Marshall didn’t move at all, his expression completely frozen. 

“Get the hell out of there!” Anton finally said, reaching across the line to yank him back. But he had to reach into Equestria to do that. His hand turned into a green hoof as it did so, only bumping against Tracy’s leg. He saw, eyes widening with horror. He stumbled back, clutching his hand to his chest and hyperventilating in the driveway. “Damn. My hand…” He held it out, flexing his fingers one at a time. They’d been restored.

Tracy did step back, mostly because of the noise they were all making. Even if the neighbors didn’t know or care about him most of the time, the louder they got the harder they would be to ignore.

He emerged on the other side of the portal entirely human, not even wobbling on his feet as it happened this time. He’d taken a few faceplants during the early months, but not anymore. “Relax, deep breaths. I don’t want the neighbors to think there’s some kind of… domestic disturbance or whatever.”

“Domestic disturbance,” Shane said, his voice low and dangerous. He stormed up to Tracy, shoving his finger right in his face. “You give any kind of damn about a god-damn… domestic disturbance?” He gestured angrily with his other hand, through the open door. “Did I just have a stroke? Does your Stonefire drug the food? Did you poison us?”

Tracy rolled his eyes. “You picked the restaurant and called me, stupid. I didn’t even know you were coming. You ordered before I even knew you were in town.”

Shane fell silent, taking a few steps back. He still looked afraid, but now his fear had transformed. 

“My hand changed!” Anton said again. “I could feel it, my fingers were all numb, all that hair…”

“A hoof,” Tracy supplied helpfully. He glanced nervously around, but no one else was on the streets with them. He thought he could see a few opened windows, eyes watching from a house across the street. How much they could see with no streetlight on yet, Tracy didn’t guess. “It goes away as soon as you’re back out, though. Your hand won’t change again on this side.”

“You made a deal with the devil,” Marshall said. His voice alone was calm, more than either of the others. He hadn’t moved from beside the door either. “You live in another universe. Why didn’t you come back? I would’ve let you surf my couch until you were on your feet.”

“I couldn’t leave!” he said, maybe a little louder than he should have. “The contract is explicit, Marshall. If I try to leave the house before my lease is up in January, the devil gets my soul. I can’t move, I can’t live anywhere else for more than three days in a month, I can’t do a whole damn list of things in the contract I should’ve read before I signed.”

I probably would’ve still signed it, though. I wouldn’t believe any of what it said without visiting Equestria for myself.

Hinges squeaked, and light flooded out from within. Tracy turned towards the inner door, now fully ajar. Rose stood there, mouth hanging open as she stared at the three of them.

Had she ever looked at him for so long on the other side of the door, let alone three strangers? “Hey Rose,” he said, waving awkwardly to her. “My friends didn’t believe where I lived. They wanted to visit for a bit.”
> Chapter 27
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy watched Rose closely, even more than his friends from Ely. She’d be the one he had to deal with tonight, regardless of how things went with them.

“I was just… going to ask if you wanted breakfast,” she asked, tail flicking nervously behind her. But she hadn’t run for her life, screaming about how he was about to lead an invasion of Equestria. That was probably the closest to a victory he’d win tonight.

“No thanks,” he said, the subtlest permission he could think of to let her leave. “That’s my roommate Roseluck,” he explained. “She’s the native who has to put up with me.”

Roseluck backed slowly away, pushing the door gently shut behind her. The others kept staring. Anton finally got to his feet again, looking between the open doorway and Tracy right beside it. “Real,” he said. “This is actually happening, and you never asked for help?”

Tracy shrugged in response, pushing the door gently closed and turning to face them. “Of course I didn’t. Remember how you felt when I told you what was happening? There’s no way to believe it without seeing it. Going across too, by the way. I don’t know if you saw, but… there’s really another world over there. I’ve seen the capital city, and it’s freakin’ gigantic. As big and fancy as DC, with way less trash and police.”

Shane swore a few more times, getting increasingly colorful as he went. “This whole thing is insane. Completely insane. Are we sure we saw it?” He wasn’t talking to Tracy anymore. “Could be something in the air. Something we were exposed to make us suggestable or something.”

“I never told you what I would look like,” Tracy said, annoyed. “Believe me, I tried to think of every explanation I could. I didn’t want to believe it. I tried to escape the contract, on this side of the door and the other. There’s no way out. But… at least now maybe you know why I can’t have houseguests?”

Anton nodded hastily. “I think I’d rather stay at the Airbnb now. You, uh…” He took another step back. “You don’t need to lead us over, Tracy, I think we can manage. Just forward the info to us, that should be fine.”

He watched them go from the doorway. He waited a little more, forwarding the emails. He’d already sent Anton’s info as the relevant contact, so it didn’t take long. Just enough time to be sure that anyone watching would get bored.

Finally he opened the door again, practically jumping to the other side. He had a technique now, for pulling it hard enough that it clicked shut behind him. He locked it just to be sure, drawing the blinds down across the window. Finally he turned, breathing heavily. 

They might never talk to me again. They might call the police. God, what happens if they show up with a warrant.

But would they? How would San Jose PD respond to a call that there was a portal to another world in a duplex downtown?

Tracy hyperventilated by the door for a few more minutes, practically unaware of the passage of time. He waited nervously, expecting someone to come banging on the door at any moment. Or maybe he’d get a call, and discover his friends had turned him in for some kind of psychological evaluation. 

Nothing happened. Nobody came storming up the front. The door behind him opened for a second time, and again it was Rose’s voice. “You want to explain what that was, Tracy?” her voice was stern, though nowhere near as angry as she’d sounded months ago. “What just happened?”

He spun to face her, walking slowly into the kitchen. She backed away—though not fearfully, the way Shane had done. She was just watching. “Those were friends from back home,” he said. He only made it as far as the inner door, before clicking it closed behind him. “They drove all the way here from Ely to surprise me.”

“You showed them Equestria,” Rose said flatly. “But didn’t take them in here?”

He nodded. “Discord put a rule in my contract about only having one person from my world here at a time. If they tried to insist on coming here, I would’ve had to lock them out. I don’t want that demon getting someone else in his paws.”

“Living here is that bad?”

She sounded so calm, but even Tracy could see the obvious landmine without walking over it. “I didn’t say that. But getting cursed by Discord isn’t. I don’t know what he’d do to them if they broke his rules. Would you want your friends getting cursed?”

“No,” she admitted, turning back to her breakfast. From the smell of it, the waffles she was cooking were completely burned.

“Don’t bother!” he called. “It’s toast!”

She took the waffle-iron off the stove, emptying its blackened contents into the sink. She couldn’t talk while she worked, since she had to stick her mouth in a protective mitten. I still don’t know how you can cook with that without burning your tongue through it.

Tracy might be getting to know Equestria more and more as the months went on, but somehow he still had a hard time imagining he would ever be cooking here. Good thing he didn’t have a kid, changing a diaper would probably cause an existential crisis.

But while she worked, Rose couldn’t interrupt him. “My friends were worried about me, that was all. When I told them about Equestria, they thought I was insane. There’s no magic on that side, no other worlds, no portals. Seeing it really scared them, and I’m not sure how they’ll react.”

Rose filled the iron with fresh batter, then finally spit out her mitten. “Your world has no magic?”

“That’s what mattered about all that?” He pulled out a kitchen chair, slumping down into it. He tossed his laptop bag callously up beside him. “Not the part where my friends think I’m crazy?”

“I know what that’s like too, about you. I turned out to be wrong… what part of Equestria did they think made you insane?”

“All of it. Another world in my apartment would be enough by itself. Everything else is just a little extra crazy-frosting.” He spread his wings placatingly, though he wasn’t sure it would make a difference at this point. “I’m not saying I agree with any of it, Rose, but I’ve been here. Don’t blame them for not understanding your world.”

She was silent for a long time. She finished with her cooking, pulled over a plate, and ate quietly. “I know you’re from somewhere else. I accept that the world you come from is different. But I hope you’ll understand how much Equestria has already been through. We barely made it through the first invasion. We can’t survive another.”

“They aren’t going to invade.” He kept back laughter, if only through great effort. “Rose, they’re three poor country kids. They aren’t going to hurt anyone, except maybe me. And even if they do, it would be an accident.”

He yawned, turning for the stairs. He didn’t much feel like taking an early morning trip to the flower stand today, not when he might get a call any second. He needed to stay close enough for service.

But no call came. He slept through the night without much issue, and found only a single message waiting for him when he woke up, from Anton. “Text me when you get off work, we’ll meet up.”

“OK,” he sent back.

At least there were no fires to put out at work, which made somewhere that things were normal. He focused on that, letting everything he couldn’t control fade from his mind. He left at the normal hour, and sent a group text as he was leaving the building. “Alright guys, I’m off. Where do we want to get together?”

No response. He made it to the car, pulled out onto the road, and still there was nothing. Tracy skipped his evening meal on the way back—probably they were just busy with something, and they’d get back to him. He’d lose out on another morning in Ponyville, but that wasn’t the end of the world. Tracy still had months left to visit as often as he wanted.

He knew something was wrong the instant he pulled to a stop in front of his place. Anton’s sedan already sat on the street, luggage piled on the backseat but no one inside.

The door swung all the way open, pressed flat to the back wall. At least the inner door was shut, so there wasn’t a view of another world for all to see. Still, Tracy sprinted to the door, his hunger forgotten. 

I always locked it. And sure enough, the doorframe was split around the lock, splinters of wood on the ground from where the lock was pried off.

Really, guys? You broke into my house? At least, Tracy assumed it was them. He pulled the door back, and found no stickers or notifications from the police. If they’d broken in as part of some warrantless search, then they should’ve left something behind. 

Tracy whipped out his phone, hands shaking as he texted. “What the hell, guys? Did you break into my house?”

He didn’t wait for a response. There was no chance they’d gone around the block to surprise him when he arrived, or something equally stupid. They’d left their car behind.

Tracy hesitated for another moment, hoping that there might be some other explanation. Any moment now the reply would come to explain this insane behavior. It didn’t. So he took the door in one hand, feeling it grind against its hinges. Was there anything in the contract about robbery? It was one of those few areas he hadn’t read that closely, other than remembering that it wouldn’t be his problem. I need to dig that thing out.

He stepped across the threshold, holding still until the transformation was complete. He pulled the door shut with his mouth, and it started to swing open again. Tracy groaned, then reached up to twist the deadbolt shut. It caught, keeping the door from opening. More work than he ever went to, since he had to use his mouth on the Ponyville side every time.

What the hell were you thinking? Tracy had been on many adventures with his friends over the years, few of them entirely legal. Out in the featureless desert, there wasn’t much to do other than blowing things up and marijuana. 

He marched into the kitchen, expecting to find a terrified Rose trying to deal with three panicked and out-of-control ponies. Rose was there, though she wasn’t the only one.

Roseluck had her back to him in one of the kitchen chairs. The cream-colored earth pony named Bon Bon was here, wearing a heavy satchel on her back. In the other chair was an oversized lavender pony, one he’d heard about for months now but never seen.

Princess Twilight Sparkle, her wings half-spread as she directed the dragon in the seat beside her to take notes. She was also the first one to notice him, or at least the first one to address him directly. “Tracy Maxwell,” she said, raising her voice. She wasn’t angry, exactly, but spoke in that flat, authoritative tone he sometimes heard from police. 

He nodded, resigned. “Yes, uh… Princess?” Maybe using her title would make her go easier on him?

“Please join us,” Twilight said. “Spike, would you mind?”

He slid out of his chair, grumbling to himself. 

“We need to talk.”




> Chapter 28
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy stared back at the Alicorn, feeling the force of her gaze like a physical pressure. He could’ve turned, and maybe ran back through the opening and fled to Earth. But would he have done the same thing if this was a senator, or the president?

Deep breaths, Tracy. You didn’t do anything wrong. This isn’t about you.

Tracy crossed the room in deliberate strides, taking the seat Twilight offered. The smart thing to do was probably to treat the conversation like a meeting with the police. The less he said, the less he could do to accidentally implicate himself in something.

How different is pony law, anyway? I could’ve been doing all kinds of things I wasn’t supposed to, and I wouldn’t even know.

Maybe the princess planned on staring at him forever, until he finally crumbled under the pressure. He folded his wings awkwardly behind him, adjusted his vest—but otherwise remained right where he was.

Eventually the princess cleared her throat, passing something across the table towards him. A little manila file, with his own real name handwritten on the top. “You recognize this, Tracy?”

Somehow she managed the name first try, where so many other ponies had failed. Tracy bent down, flipping the folder open. There wasn’t much inside, just two official-looking documents. One was an “application for temporary residency of tenant”, and another was a copy of his lease.

“This I know,” he said, tapping the lease with a hoof. “This other one… looks like a crazy person wrote it. Who would change colored pens every letter?”

The Alicorn chuckled in response, levitating the other sheet across the room. She didn’t move it like Lyra—rather than laser-focusing on the sheets, Twilight seemed to just will them over, and they moved. “If you thought colored ink was strange, I can’t imagine why you would’ve signed a contract with Discord.”

She returned it to the folder, leaning across the table at him. “I’m very interested in how Ponyville could’ve had a pony visiting from another universe for all this time, without ever meeting him. It almost feels like this whole situation is deliberate escalation. Discord might not try to take over Equestria anymore, but that doesn’t mean he plays by the rules.”

Tracy’s ears flattened, wings shifting nervously behind him. He’d barely said anything, and already things were going exactly where he’d been afraid they would. “I just rented a room,” he said, as innocently as he could. “Until I got to know Roseluck, I never even planned on visiting Equestria at all.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Rose sunk deeper into her chair, avoiding his eyes. 

“We’ve already spoken somewhat extensively. So you don’t know anything about Discord’s involvement in this?”

Tracy shook his head, but before he could form words, someone knocked on the door, from the Equestrian side. Spike moved to open it, but it swung open before he could reach it, nearly smashing into his face.

Discord floated inside, one claw scraping along the floor. He wore a curious imitation of a Hawaiian shirt over a pair of khaki shorts, and somehow his fur was… sunburned?

“I’m really not happy that you take me off my vacation for this, Twilight,” he said, barely even looking at Tracy. “But you leave me no choice. You’re harassing my tenants, and I simply can’t have that.”

Curious that you’d show up only when she asks about you.

Twilight’s eyes narrowed, though she was the only one who could face Discord without fear. Roseluck rose from her seat, dropping into a half bow, half crouch. You want to run away from this too. 

“I’m asking reasonable questions given the circumstances, Discord. Unless you’d like to explain why three aliens have just used a stable worldgate you built into this house. Not to mention one living in Ponyville for months without telling me.”

“My tenant is here on a perfectly legal basis,” Discord said, producing a briefcase from somewhere behind him—though nothing had been there. He opened it right over Twilight’s head, and an ocean of papers poured out. From the dense scrawl packed into those pages, Tracy assumed they must be lawbooks, though he couldn’t say for sure. “See for yourself. His residency has Celestia’s personal approval.”





Twilight’s horn glowed, and the pile vanished from around her. She shook herself out, and tightly coiled rolls of text shook free from her mane, her ears. “I didn’t say you’d broken the law. You hadn’t, until last night. Smuggling three aliens with unknown magic and motives into Equestria…”

Tracy nearly spoke up then—but something about the glow coming from Discord’s yellow eyes silenced him. He kept his head down, taking a few more deep breaths.

“I am absolutely appalled at that accusation,” Discord said, clutching at his chest with one claw. “In fact, I’ve come to request you press charges against those invaders. They broke into my property, causing my tenants fear and emotional distress. Add that to whatever chaos they’ve caused across Equestria.”

“Wait!” Tracy no longer cared if it made Discord upset—there was nothing in his lease about never arguing. “Princess, you might not know the three intruders, but I do. They’re my friends.”

Even Discord fell momentarily silent as he said it, though a grin spread slowly across his face. 

“I didn’t tell them to do it!” he added hastily. “Actually, I told them specifically that I couldn’t have them here. They were supposed to be staying elsewhere in our world. Coming here was a violation of my trust.”

“All the more reason for a swift prosecution,” Discord added, snapping his briefcase shut. “They were informed of the contract, and violated it anyway. See, even my tenant wishes to see them punished. You just have to do something about this, Princess. Without our legal system, why… Equestria would descend into chaos.”

Twilight nodded curtly at him. “Thank you for sharing your concerns, Discord. But I’m not the pony who will be passing judgement on anyone. I’m just here because Ponyville is where I live, and I need to be able to reassure its residents that they aren’t in danger. Visit Canterlot Castle for the hearing schedule, if you want to be involved.”

“Oh, I will.” Discord waved towards the both of them, teeth glittering. “I’m sorry to both of you for the inconvenience. I assure you I’ll extract the recompense to which you’re duly entitled.”

He left, not so much walking out the door as rewinding back the way he’d come. His motions reversed, right up until he smacked Spike again. Or maybe… un-smacked him?

“Well, that’s exhausting.” Twilight waited another moment, eyes on the door. Only when Discord did not return did she finally look back at them both. “Tracy, I need to know everything you can tell me about the ones who broke into Equestria. Who are they, what are they doing here, what are their motivations—everything.”

Maybe it would’ve been better to deny her request. But if Twilight was upset with Discord too, maybe that meant she’d be on their side? He didn’t have an abundance of options left at this point.

“They’ve been my friends since I was little,” he explained. “Small town, not a lot of people our age. Anton, Marshall, and Shane. Shane did a little school up at Berkley, before he… you don’t know what that means. They all got sucked back home in the end, because that’s always what happens.

“They came down to San Jose planning to visit me. They didn’t know there was another universe in my apartment. When I told them last night, they were terrified, and I wasn’t sure I’d even see them again. They told me we would talk again after I got back from work. I’m guessing they must’ve broken into my house while I was gone.”

Twilight watched, while Spike scribbled rapidly on his oversized notepad. I wish I had hands like that. Living here would be so much easier if I did.

“Why would they do that?” Twilight asked. “Did you tell them something about Equestria that would make them want to sneak in?”

He thought back to that brief, traumatic conversation. “No. I said there was a whole world in here, not just one house. But I didn’t really say much about Equestria specifically. If anything, they seemed terrified of the whole thing. They basically ran away last night, so I’m not sure what would’ve happened to change their minds.”

Twilight nodded, gesturing over to Rose. “Could you say again what you saw for Tracy’s benefit?”

She returned to her seat, glancing nervously out the window. But Discord wasn’t waiting outside. Then again, he’d already heard when they mentioned him once. It made sense for the devil to hear anything said in his domain.

“I was asleep when I heard something break. It sounded like someone must be fighting downstairs. I don’t know what they were yelling about, exactly. But they left right away, so I don’t think they took anything. I watched out my window—an earth pony galloping away from the other two, didn’t get a good look at them. It was still dark outside.

They couldn’t have thought they would find him in Equestria, could they? They knew where he worked, Apex’s campus was only minutes away!

“Any hints?” the princess asked. “Your friend Roseluck brought this to my attention this morning, but those three had quite the head start.”

He could only shake his head, looking as apologetic as he could. “I’m sorry I don’t know more, Princess Twilight. It sounds like they might not have agreed about coming here, but you could tell that for yourself I’m sure. I don’t know where they were going.” 

He paused, running through what he might’ve done if he’d run into Equestria months ago. Try to find his way back out, obviously—but if he’d only seen the house once, how would he do that?

“What will you do to them?” he asked. “Please, don’t do what Discord wants. I don’t know what they’re doing here, but… I know they don’t want to hurt you. They barely even understand that you exist. This is probably some… cosmic misunderstanding.”

Twilight rose, her wings spreading to either side. “It’s not me you have to convince, as I told Discord. Your… friends, I suppose, might’ve been quite difficult to find if they got loose somewhere like Canterlot. But Ponyville is a small place, and the number of ponies who go off running into the night is even smaller. If they haven’t been found already, they will be soon. After that…” She shrugged. “Princess Celestia will decide what happens. All you have to decide is whether you’d like to help them. Or maybe you’d rather press charges, as Discord does.”

“No way,” he snapped, without even thinking. “Whatever they did to scare Roseluck—I’ll bear the punishment. Otherwise, they don’t deserve whatever Discord wants. Just get them home before they hurt themselves.”

Twilight gestured, and the front door swung open of its own accord. “Accompany me to Canterlot, Tracy. While we wait for the Royal Guard to locate the intruders, you can detail the potential dangers they pose to Equestria to me. Or perhaps research a defense in the royal library.”

It wasn’t quite how he’d imagined spending the night. Depending on the speed of the Equestrian legal system, it might mean no flying lessons this week. But there was probably a more important aspect of that. “Will you give me a moment to send a message? I need to tell my job that I won’t be in tomorrow. Guess it’s time to burn a vacation day.”

Twilight shrugged. “As far as I can tell, you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s those ponies who need you.”

He hurried back out the way he’d come, making sure to shut the door on the way out. Whatever the temptation to sprint for his car and make a break for it, he resisted. Instead he pulled out his phone, texting Janet about a “family emergency” that would take all weekend to resolve.

“Take care of it,” she responded, only seconds later. “But don’t let this be a habit. You’re running out of get out of jail free cards, newbie.”
> Chapter 29
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy had never so much as taken a plane before, let alone sat in first class. While he sat alone for long hours debugging his work in a lab somewhere, he’d often imagined what it would be like one day, when he worked for a big company. They’d fly him all over to technical conferences, and he’d always ride in business class.

His ride to Canterlot could only be described as “princess class.” It was like the personal trains of any number of kings and dictators, without any of the security features. Marble and gold with lots of open space, and seats so soft it challenged every preconception he had of Equestrian textiles. The car had its own full-service bar with refreshments and unidentifiable bubbling drinks.

Tracy ignored all of it, sitting awkward and alone in a back corner, waiting for it to be over. He’d worn his usual clothes for the trip, but that was all. What good would a laptop or even a wallet do?

If you’d asked me to think of a way for you three to be stupider than this, I couldn’t have done it. He leaned out against the stained-glass window, watching the countryside roll by. But instead of relaxing and peaceful, he couldn’t help but scan the rolling fields for any sign of activity. Maybe Anton was hiding behind that old farmhouse. How far could they have wandered by now? Or maybe they’d just blunder into that big forest everyone was afraid of, and never come out again.

“You want to keep brooding alone?” asked a familiar voice. Roseluck prodded him in the shoulder, nearly making him jump from the seat. He spun, ears flattening in embarrassment. 

Yes. But she was coming to the trial too. If she sided with Discord, that might make things worse for his friends. “No.” He spun back around, settling his forelegs in front of him in a sitting position that was only slightly awkward. As he twisted, an oversized book fell out of his vest, clattering onto the floor between their seats.

Rose picked it up in her mouth, tossing it into his lap before climbing up beside him. It was his borrowed copy of Thestrals Fly Too! not even half read yet thanks to his friends. 

For a few minutes the mare sat beside him without a word. Twilight’s conversation with her friends and Spike mixed with the rattling of wheels on track. Finally Rose sighed, her voice barely audible over the rumbling. “You said you weren’t an invader, Tracy. You were trapped just like me, Discord tricked you. Explain this.”

Damn. What could he say? She’d already heard the whole explanation. What could possibly make her understand?

“My friends are idiots,” he said. “Ely never had a lot to do. When we were growing up together, we mostly just got into trouble. Blowing things up in the desert, sneaking into places we didn’t belong. We got better. I went to school so I could get a real job, Shane did too. I think Marshall started working at a garage…”

It wasn’t working. Roseluck’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a criminal?”

“No!” he yelled, loud enough that even the princess glanced across the room at them. He winced, looking away from them. “We never hurt anyone, Roseluck. We never stole anything, we were just… kids, stupid kids. I have no idea why they would want to sneak into your world. Sneaking into my house to play some kind of prank on me would be typical—but not all this. I want nothing more than to send them back where they came from.”

Roseluck didn’t look away from him, bright red eyes only inches from his face watching with suspicion. “I thought I could trust you, Tracy. Helping my sisters and I… I thought maybe our worlds weren’t so different. But now I don’t know what to think.”

She got up, marching glumly to the other side of the car. She left him alone for the remainder of the ride.

More luxury waited for them when noon came, and they were finally arriving in Canterlot. Their train detached from the rest of the cars, continuing up the mountainside higher than Tracy had yet gone. They pulled to a stop only just outside the castle gates. 

The structure was even more impressive in person, perched so precariously on a cliffside that seemed so steep that a landslide must be seconds away.

But there were no landslides, only stern-looking guards who glowered at him as he brought up the rear of the royal party. 

They passed through a sprawling castle garden, richly attended by dozens of workers. He only got one look at distant statues and water-features, then it was up a set of marble steps and through towering double doors.

This isn’t how this was supposed to happen, he thought, watching Rose’s retreating tail ahead of him. Seeing this castle from the flight school made him long to know what was inside. There was bound to be a chance, maybe after class, or maybe before. Equestria had to offer tours.

He was certainly supervised—four stern-looking ponies in gold armor followed their group with every step, and most of their attention was on him. He got only seconds to appreciate the vast scope of a long throne-room, with stained glass on either side—then they were on their way down a maze of different stairs and hallways into the stony flesh of the mountain.

Would a magical horse-princess keep an actual dungeon? Maybe I’m on my way to join the others as an inconvenience to the crown. Could Discord still collect on his soul if he was jailed in Canterlot?

“Tracy, up here,” Twilight called, her voice imperious. He slipped past the others, stopping beside Twilight and another heavy door. It was made of metal, not wood. So maybe they did have a dungeon.

He lowered his head respectfully, though he doubted it would make much difference. “Are you going to throw me in jail, Princess?”

“What?” Her eyes widened, baffled. “Don’t be so melodramatic. Nopony’s getting thrown in jail.” She nodded towards another armored guard, resting just beside the door. Like most of the guards Tracy had seen today, she wasn’t armed. What was she actually supposed to do if there was violence here? Or maybe pegasus ponies didn’t need weapons.

“We found them crossing the orchards outside Ponyville. It’s possible they stole a few pears, but we don’t know that.”

He stepped back from the door, wings spreading in surprise. “Wait, so fast?”

She nodded, a little pride visible even through her helmet. “Her Majesty’s Cloudguard has the best record for finding lost ponies anywhere in Equestria. I flew ahead to tell the princess we’d found what she was looking for. They should be back in Ponyville in time for the evening express, so just a few hours from now.”

Twilight’s horn glowed again, and the heavy door squeaked open. Inside was what he could only describe as a comfortable hotel room? Or… those were locks on the doors, and heavy bars on the windows. So maybe not.

The builders had done their best to mitigate the dinginess of plain stone with lots of soft carpet and warm light, and there were several separate bedrooms.

Twilight was the first to step inside, and he had no choice but to follow. “It seems at least one part of your story was true, Tracy. They didn’t hurt anypony… but Discord is still going to make his case. If these are really your friends, you may want to wait for them. My friends and I are going to visit Celestia, and hopefully figure out what Discord is doing with you. I read that lease you signed on the ride up here…” 

Twilight shook her head, expression parental. “What were you thinking to make you sign something like that?”

He shook his head. “I should’ve read the fine print, Princess. But I was desperate enough that I probably would’ve signed it anyway.”

The Alicorn turned to go. “This room won’t be locked until they arrive—technically they’re criminals, until the princess hears their case. If you want to leave, just let the Royal Guard lead you out. You don’t want to get lost down here, trust me.”

She vanished out the doorway, the colorful line of ponies following behind her. Only Roseluck remained, slipping through the door. 

Rose slowed, pawing at the carpet. “Well this is… fancy. I wonder if they used to keep Unicornia nobles in here, back when ponies ransomed each other and battled and stuff.”

He shrugged, slumping into the sofa. There were no appliances here, nothing to distract him while they waited. But at least the princess was true to her word: the door didn’t slam closed, locking them down here. “You’re staying?”

She shrugged, taking a chair opposite him. “If I’m not on their side, then I’m on Discord’s. That just doesn’t feel right. But I would like an apology for breaking in like that. And… for somepony to fix the door.”

“I’m sure they’ll have a very good reason for this insanity as soon as they get here,” he said, without a hint of confidence in his voice. “I’ll do the door myself as soon as this is over. Hopefully I don’t have to replace the whole thing. If it’s a Monsters, Inc. thing and the door is magic, I’m screwed.”

“Monsters… what?”

“Nevermind.” Tracy folded his forelegs over his chest, staring down at nothing in particular. “I’m supposed to be coming up with some kinda defense, right? Can you tell me anything about the princess? She’s like Twilight?”

“Princess Celestia?” Roseluck laughed, her voice only slightly strained. “Not… really. She banished her sister to the moon for a thousand years once. While Equestria was still divided into bickering tribes, she helped unify us under one flag. She’s ruled before the castle was built—before any of us were born. She’ll probably still be ruling long after we’re dead.”

“She didn’t seem unreasonable when we met her,” he countered. “Maybe a little too dark and mysterious, but nice. I’ve met plenty of politicians who could’ve learned from her.”

“That was Luna,” Roseluck said, exasperated. “She’s newer. This whole thing involves other worlds, Discord, maybe invaders… Princess Celestia usually deals with the big stuff. Raising the sun every morning is only the start of the Solar Court. I wonder how long we’ll have to wait.”

Tracy picked her brain for as many details as he could while they waited. Most of it sounded like mythology, but that was probably just as important here. The myth of the royal family would be just as real to them as the truth.

Unfortunately not much of it seemed terribly useful. The solar princess was harsh enough to turn her foes to stone one minute, but let a yellow press print rumors of her overindulging in sweets the next. She held strict obedience to ancient traditions, then left the yearly rituals in the hooves of complete novices, who inevitably wrecked everything.

She was powerful enough that she lifted the sun in the sky every morning, yet weak enough that she’d been defeated by multiple enemies in the past. Including Discord, who was also now the landlord of a duplex in San Jose?

“I’m never going to make any sense of this,” he declared, head slumping into his lap. “Is this like… real real, or just real?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Roseluck called from the kitchen. Apparently it was fully stocked for their arrival, icebox and all. While he’d been asking questions and fidgeting in place fast enough that he’d begun to work the cushions off the sofa, she’d taken every green thing out of the fridge and started arranging it. Slices of fruit, stalks of asparagus, and florets of broccoli were all coming together in front of her in something vaguely approaching a pony face. “It’s real, yeah. Lots of this stuff happened during my lifetime.”

“Well yeah, but—”

Several sets of hooves sounded in the hall outside, scraping and stumbling as they walked. It had taken weeks of practice before Tracy could walk with confidence. His friends had only been here a day.

“We have the prisoners!” called a royal guard. “If you two stay in there, you’ll be locked in.”

“We know,” Tracy yelled back. “Rose, are you staying?”

She nodded. “I’m not finished with lunch yet.”
> Chapter 30
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy rose from the sofa, watching from the doorway as they came in. Equestria hadn’t locked them in chains, or done anything else overly aggressive. After hearing about Princess Celestia in such detail, he felt more than a little relieved. 

As soon as the three of them had made their way inside, somepony snapped the door closed from the other side, clicking shut. They were officially locked in.

Tracy wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting from seeing his friends in Equestria. Obviously they were all dressed, in clothing that crossed various thresholds of completely useless. Where Tracy would barely have thought about it, now he tucked his tail subconsciously. It didn’t matter that they were all in the same metaphorical boat.

Either by chance or some magic inherent in the doorway, they spanned the three basic tribes. One unicorn, one pegasus, one earth pony. Anton was the pegasus, he recognized that shade of evergreen from the second he’d crossed the threshold. The other two could’ve gone either way.

“I’ve been waiting to hear what the hell you were thinking for hours now,” Tracy said, doing his best impression of Twilight’s own expression when he’d arrived. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Both unicorn and pegasus glared at the earth pony. Even Tracy was momentarily taken aback by the size of him. Shoulders like that could probably pull the plow that would feed an entire village, or at least a Budweiser carriage. His mane was a curly red orange, vaguely similar to… no way. But then he spoke in Shane’s voice, and Tracy didn’t know what to think. 

The doorway had taken a 5’4” human and turned them into a horse who could pull a barn. “They’re gonna say it was my fault, so we might as well start there. But none of this was supposed to happen. They shouldn’t have come.”

Anton scoffed, his wings moving entirely of their own accord. One shoved into the unicorn’s side—Marshall, then. 

“Oh yeah, I’m sure we weren’t supposed to come. That’s the way to handle this.” He flopped onto his haunches, pawing weakly at the carpet. “It’s all ruined anyway. Might as well blame us.”

“Tell me what happened,” Tracy said, stopping feet away from them. “I don’t think we have time for a lecture on how damn stupid you three were. But before that, I need to know what the hell you were thinking. You broke into my house, you terrified my roommate, and you thought you could just… charge across a world you didn’t understand?”

“Nobody was supposed to find out,” Marshall said. At least he had the decency to seem embarrassed. “Your door was a single cylinder deadbolt, I had the right picks. We wanted to make sure the magic door thing had really happened, not just a… group hallucination, or drugs we’d taken, or hypnotism.”

Tracy laughed. “So you needed to break into Equestria for that?”

“No, we didn’t.” He glared at Shane. “Because apparently we brought an absolute lunatic. We could’ve paid you back to fix the door, but… then he had to make a run for it like this was a prison break.”

“I told you both not to follow me!” Shane shouted, stomping the ground with one of those powerful hooves. The stones actually shook as he did so, and Tracy had the sickening feeling of the entire mountain wobbling slightly. Just my imagination. It’s obviously not really happening. “Seriously, Tracy. Even you weren’t supposed to find out about it. This was me, nobody else.”

Tracy thought briefly back to his first moments in Equestria, when he had looked through those windows and imagined what the whole world would be like. But instead of finding out, he’d gone back to work, and spent months without knowing what was waiting for him.

“We were going to bring him back,” Anton added. “Before the clock struck twelve, or… however this thing works. Stop Shane from hurting himself. I guess you succeeded where we failed. Unless… you’re in jail too.”

Rose emerged from the kitchen, settling her arrangement on the table in front of them all. The smell of so many fresh vegetables was enough that even Tracy looked up, staring. Even in their prison, Equestria was taking care of them. 





“Why do none of you have cutie marks?” Roseluck asked, confused. “I’ve never seen that on a pony so old.”

Tracy’s friends only looked baffled. “I have no idea,” he said. “It probably does mean something.” Maybe it was in the contract somewhere, those clauses he hadn’t read very closely about emergencies and crimes. He’d worry about that later. “Okay, Shane. Why did you do this?”

Shane shifted on his hooves, backing away like a child asked an uncomfortable question. He didn’t look back as he answered, just muttered to himself. “I like my odds in here better than back home,” he said. “It doesn’t matter that it’s horses—I can understand the language, that’s enough. I don’t want to go back.”

“See what I said,” Anton muttered. “He completely lost his mind. Wanted to run through to another world, and now…” He gestured down at them with his wings in vague frustration. “We’re in prison in another universe. Who knows what they’re gonna do to us. We didn’t even do anything cool first, it’s just bad.”

Tracy walked past them over to the table, taking one of the plates Rose offered. He wasn’t sure what half of these green things even were, but they were wet and cold and probably tasted as good as they smelled. A few seconds of experimentation proved the truth of that hypothesis, along with settling his nerves. 

“This is great, Rose. Still not sure it counts as cooking if it’s just putting lots of raw food out on a plate.”

She rolled her eyes, snatching a strip of asparagus. “You don’t have to have any if you don’t want to. I just thought I’d give them a good meal before they go to court.”

“You make it sound so ominous.” Marshall was the first to the table, pulling nervously into a seat. His horn didn’t so much as flicker. How crazy would it be to learn how to make that work. At least it would probably end with getting his hands back. “How screwed are we, Tracy? One to ten.”

“I, uh… don’t think you’ll be sent to the moon.” He served himself several melon slices from the edible pony’s mouth. But the three of them only looked more bewildered. “I think there’s a good chance you’ll be able to go home,” he finally said. “I don’t know if Equestria even has an immigration system. But I had a permit, so I guess maybe there’s got to be something.”

“Equestria welcomes friends from all over,” Roseluck supplied. “But you’re from another universe. That falls under unicorn rules for summoning, I think. I don’t know any of them.”

“Magic, guys,” Shane whispered. He sat at the far end of the table, and didn’t take anything for himself. “Of course I would want to come here. I’d be crazy not to.”

The other two just groaned. Tracy didn’t argue, finishing his plate in relative silence. His own exhaustion was beginning to get the better of him—if the sun was going down outside, that meant he’d been up all night. It was Friday morning, or would be soon. Good thing I called it in.

They didn’t have much longer to wait, all things considered. The door clicked and rumbled, and a pair of royal guardsponies appeared in the opening. 

Not the same ponies he was used to—their armor was silver, adorned with amethyst gemstones. They were both bats. “Three conjured trespassers required to appear for judgement in the Court of Night.”

Wait, what? Why would Celestia have court in the dark? “Can we come?” Tracy asked, following the three of them to the door. “They’re my friends. They don’t know what they’ve gotten themselves into.”

The guards looked at each other, then shrugged. “You can. The mare should follow us upstairs and wait until judgement is complete. Unless she wishes to join the prosecution.”

“No,” Roseluck said wearily. “They’re just idiots. I trust my roommate to make it up to me.”

Tracy winced as he heard it—but whatever waited at the end of that demand would have to wait. They shuffled up the steps in relative silence, broken only when one of his friends tripped on the stairs or nearly bumped into some priceless relic on display. Eventually they reached the main floor, and cut straight towards the throne room.

Where once the palace had been lit with massive skylights and occasional golden lamps, now every bracket glowed blue, casting eerie shadows as they crossed. Tracy slowed to study some of the oversized stained-glass, each one its own priceless work of art—but the guards and his friends didn’t seem content to sit there.

The princess rested on what looked like twenty feet of solid gold, with velvety fabric leading up the steps and water bubbling off one side in a living spring. There were even little lily pads floating in the water, eerie white flowers open to the moonlight trickling down from overhead.

Tracy might not be an expert on Equestrian lore, but he knew enough to know the princesses apart now. This wasn’t Celestia—he’d met this pony before.

Princess Luna looked just as regal as she had on the Equinox. She wore the same black crown, with a faint silvery moon set into its surface. She reclined in her throne, watching them approach without a word.

Nor was she the only one here. Temporary stadium seating rose against a nearby wall. It might’ve fit a hundred ponies if they all packed in close, but there were only a few seats taken. Mostly near the front row, where ponies wore official-looking uniforms. One sat in front of a typewriter, another had a sketchpad.

They all stayed well away from a booth near the front, where a familiar figure loomed. Discord reclined in that chair, wearing a strange red robe that flowed over his mismatched limbs, along with a black wrap that joined with an absurdly wide cap. The chair lifted too, and while it never rose out of the box exactly, it did make him almost as high up as the princess herself.

A bored-looking unicorn stood up in another booth, clearing her throat. When she spoke, her voice boomed over the court, and the general muttering fell silent. “The court recognizes three summoned spirits, entities, embodied minds of legend and terror, here named Anton, Marshall, and Shane. They are invited to sit.”

They did. At least they weren’t going to make a scene before this even started. Tracy hesitated for a moment in the aisle, looking to the guards with confusion. “Where should I go?”

One pointed with his wing, at the open chair just behind them, in the booth directly opposite Discord. Did that make him their… defense? They’re completely screwed.

He made his way over, attracting several curious stares. The unicorn in white tapped something against the wood in front of her—was she the judge, then, or was that still the princess? “Who are you?”

“Tracy Maxwell. I’m appearing as, uh… friend of the court?” There was a term for this, but Tracy had spent his whole life trying to stay as far away from court as possible. “Look, they’re my friends, and they don’t know what they’re doing. What’s that called?”

“That won’t be—” 

The night princess stirred on her throne, wings rustling behind her. Though every guard and many of the visitors in the stands had bat wings, she didn’t. “I’ll allow it. Record him as defending council.”

The stenographer’s typewriter clattered, and Tracy took his seat.

“The beings before you are intruders from an adjoining universe,” the unicorn went on. “They appear under charges of trespassing, criminal vandalism, interdimensional incursion. The proposed sentences are…”

She levitated a pair of glasses onto her brow, squinting down at something. “Perpetual ensorcellement to the aggrieved party?”

“Yes,” Discord said, lacing his paws together in his lap. “It’s in my contract.”
> Chapter 31
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was silence in the courtroom, as what few ponies in the stands gasped and pointed. Tracy could only hope they thought those charges were as outrageous as he did. No one dared speak, until Princess Luna finally rose from her throne, glaring across the room. “Equestria declines to prosecute on the charge of interdimensional incursion and criminal destruction of property. With no charges, the court—”

Discord cleared his throat loudly. “Excuse me, Princess. But I wouldn’t want this body to perform a preventable error. I believe I was the party that suffered the destruction of property. Also, the charge of trespassing is self-evident. It was my worldgate, and these three are evidently in our universe. Ergo, the facts are present.”

Princess Luna’s wings flared momentarily, and it seemed as though she might start yelling at him. Then she slumped back to her throne. “Very well. Strike the interdimensional incursion charge, we shall examine the other two. This court accepts the evidence for trespassing. Does the defense have anything to add?”

Tracy shifted nervously under the sudden attention of a room full of creatures. His friends watched him, all three terrified and desperate. If he didn’t say something, one of them probably would. At least he knew how Equestria worked.

“My roommate and I are the tenants of the property they entered,” he said, his voice quaking under the pressure. He hesitated, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Neither of us want to prosecute them either. We’d rather just forgive them and send them home.”

“Irrelevant,” Discord called, his voice taunting. “You did not invite them onto the property, or else you would have violated the contract. As they were not invited guests, it is up to me as the owner of the building to decide. I would like charges pressed against these lawbreakers, Princess. To the full extent of the law.”

It was hard to see from across the room, but was the princess rolling her eyes at him. “Very well. What evidence do you have to present to the court as to the destruction of property charge, Discord?”

His chair jerked abruptly, landing with a crunch of snapping wood. Yet the chair kept holding him at about the level it should. Discord snapped his claws, and an oversized photo appeared in the air beside his chair. 

It showed exactly what Tracy would’ve expected—the door pried open, lock hanging mostly out of the wood. “As you see, Princess. Honored guests of the court. These three destroyed my home to enter.”

The Alicorn nodded, turning her attention on the defendants’ table. “Did you do this?”

“I did,” Marshall said, his voice so quiet that Luna had to ask him to repeat himself. “I broke in. The others didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Hmm.” The princess nodded to the stenographer, and his keyboard rattled for a few seconds in silence. “Does the defense have anything to add?”

Tracy felt that hopeless weight all over again. But a few conversations with Rose weren’t going to prepare him for this! He wasn’t a lawyer just because he could read over a contract!

“Well, uh… one thing.” He rose from his chair, pointing across the room with a wing. “The property the defendants allegedly destroyed is located in another universe, not Equestria. Don’t you, like… not have jurisdiction over that or whatever? Seems like Discord should try to recover damages there.”

Luna glanced across the room at the unicorn in white. “Is there any precedent for prosecuting criminal acts that didn’t occur in our universe?”

The pony’s eyes went wide. Books all around her opened of their own accord and she flipped through one after another. What she could be getting from them so fast, Tracy couldn’t even guess. But it didn’t take her long to shake her head. “No, Princess!”

“The court finds in favor of the defendants as to the charge of destruction of property, and the cause is vacated due to lack of jurisdiction.”

She raised a wing, silencing Discord before he could start arguing again. “Careful. Don’t try this court’s patience.”

He folded his claws again, furious eyes fixed on Tracy. 

“However, the evidence for trespassing is sufficient, and I find the defendants guilty. As to the sentence…”

Her horn glowed, and there was a faint flash of light in the air beside her. A stack of papers appeared there, one that Tracy could guess at even if he couldn’t see the writing to be sure. “Equestria does not recognize your attempt to rewrite criminal law with regard to third parties. The penalty you suggest in this document is irrelevant.”

The night princess spread her wings wide. As she did, her mane seemed to catch a wind Tracy could not feel, shining with starlight brighter than anything coming from overhead. 

I’m watching a goddess run a small claims court.

“Equestria fines these three creatures twenty bits each, or fifty hours of community service each. After which, they will be returned home with an injunction against further trespassing.” Something flashed in the air beside her, though her own horn was dark. A thin white sack appeared just out of reach, wrapped with a little sun around the top. It landed with a meaty metallic rattle on the throne. “Oh look, a third party has elected to pay their fine. How unexpected. Clerk, finalize the record and get this ridiculous case out of my courtroom.”

She flopped sideways into her throne, digging around in a little basket at the side holding sheets of paper. Her next case, maybe?

Tracy slumped back into his seat, finally relaxing. He barely understood what had just happened, but one fact was clear. They weren’t even going to be asked to pay a fine they couldn’t—it was taken care of. His friends could go home, and they could put this nightmare behind them.





“The court’s decision as to the case of three unknown Outsiders is concluded, and the—” The unicorn began. She didn’t finish, because Shane rose from his chair, crossing halfway to the throne before he finally lost his nerve. “Wait! Princess, uh… please don’t send me back!”

What the hell are you doing, Shane? We won!

Guards on either side of the throne reacted instantly, gliding to block his path about halfway across the room. “Remain where you are, pony,” they said. “No closer.”

“Here he goes again,” Anton muttered. “If we go to jail over this, I’ll kill him.” 

The night princess looked up, dropping her reading onto the chair beside her. She gestured with a wing, and the two guards retreated. “What are you talking about, pony?”

Shane’s bravery melted under her gaze. He slumped onto his haunches, and muttered to himself as he spoke. Despite his incredible size here in Equestria, an Alicorn still made him seem small. “I’m the real reason all this happened. I ran into Equestria because I was trying to escape that place. Please let me stay here. I’ll dig ditches, I’ll pick fruit, I’ll flip burgers. Anything, but… don’t send me back.”

“Don’t send you back,” the princess repeated, eyes narrowing. “To a realm so terrible that you would do anything to stay away. Your friends don’t seem to share your sentiment. If it isn’t something about where you came from, then it must be something you learned about Equestria. What was that?”

Now even the bored ponies from the audience were paying attention. How boring were things usually in the night court?

“I, uh… I’m sorry, I’m sure Equestria is… fantastic. But it is about not going back.” Even Tracy couldn’t watch it. He could only imagine what the princess must be thinking. “I don’t have any life waiting for me back there. I crippled myself with debt to get a degree I never finished. I’ll be struggling to survive that mistake until I die. But here—it seemed like a fresh start.”

It’s that bad? Tracy stared, as silent as the rest of the court. But at least he could understand Shane’s complaints. It was exactly why he’d gone somewhere local, even though the degree wasn’t likely worth much. It didn’t cost much either. But what was student debt to an alien?

Princess Luna looked back. “Finalize the record,” she said. “The court takes a ten-minute recess.”

Some of the crowd scattered, giving Discord’s seat the widest possible clearance. Though… he didn’t seem to be using it anymore.

“Don’t think I’ll forget this,” said a voice from Tracy’s other side, so close he nearly fell out of his chair. Discord stood there, apparently without having ever actually crossed the throne room. “Nothing happens today, but I’ll remember.”

“They’re my friends,” he said, as bravely as he could. “I had to.”

Discord laughed. “We’ll see how long you feel that way.” He vanished.

Tracy rose from his chair then, crossing towards Shane. He wasn’t the only one—Luna herself had already reached the bottom of the throne. The night princess’s expression was unreadable, looking Shane over without a word.

“Contact between realms is a rare and delicate thing, pony. Once in our history, we misused our magic, viewing the other realms as an infinitely vast waste-disposal to banish creatures we could not otherwise defeat. But that realm was home to creatures who paid the price for our hubris.”

“I’m not dangerous,” Shane muttered. “I’m just bad with money.”

“More than that,” the princess corrected. “It sounds to me like you’re the victim of an injustice, but not one this court is qualified to rectify.”

“You could let me stay,” he suggested. “I’ll do whatever you want, like I said. I’ll take whatever horse-civics you ask. I’ll memorize your pledge of allegiance and go to your churches. Whatever it takes.”

The princess chuckled, looking to Tracy instead. “Child of Night,” she said. “Tracy. You are this creature’s friend?”

He nodded. “He’s telling the truth, if that’s what you’re asking. All that can really happen.”

“Not that.” She glanced back across the room, where Anton and Marshall were still in their seats, watching fearfully. Maybe they thought this victory would be taken from them, and they’d be sent to jail after all. “It’s cruel of my sister to play this game. But the judgement is mine to make, so I have to ask. You’re from the same realm as… Shane?”

He nodded. “We grew up together, in the same town. Didn’t separate until school.”

The princess considered for another few seconds. “I heard very highly of you from one Roseluck of Ponyville. It would be easier to think your friends were of similar character if they weren’t standing in my courtroom.”

“Yeah.” He ran one hoof along the stone floor. “Shane, are you sure about this? There are ways out. You don’t have to run away to another universe.”

Shane glared back, defiant. “Easy for you to say, Tracy. You made it. You don’t have to gloat about how much better you are—I know. But I’ll do better the second time. I haven’t seen much of Equestria yet, but I know it’s better than the place we left.”

Princess Luna was silent for a few moments more. “I’ve learned through sad experience that ponies rarely value something that is given. It must be earned, then it will be cherished. I will not give you sanctuary here in Equestria. I will, however, offer you the opportunity to earn it.”

Her horn glowed, and something levitated all the way down from the throne towards them. The white cloth bag, clanking with bits. “What if I misplace these bits? Would you serve the hours you and your friends owe to Equestria—150 hours. Is coming here worth that much to you?”

I get it. That’s smart, Princess. Scare him out of this insanity the way none of us could.

“Yes,” Shane said. “I am a stranger—I don’t know how to support myself here, or the way to be a good citizen here. But I’d work anyway.”

“One more thing.” She raised one hoof, silencing his excitement. “As there is no relationship between our realms, this decision will likely be permanent. I will find a place for you to work with a skilled mentor—far from Discord’s worldgate. Do you realize the sacrifice that entails?”

Shane glanced past her, back to the defendants’ table. He considered for a few silent moments, then nodded again. “I hoped I would still see Tracy, but… I understand.”

“Then say your goodbyes outside my courtroom, and wait for my personal guard to fetch you.” She turned away, muttering to herself as she climbed her throne. “See what sister thinks of this.”
> Chapter 32
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

They didn’t make it far from the courtroom, just out into an adjoining hall before their escort of night-guards finally came to a stop. Rose was waiting in the only uncomfortable-looking chair, and her simple presence was enough to fill Tracy with relief. We can go back to normal after this.

His friends were totally silent, occasionally glancing back at Shane, but never saying anything.

But Rose was rarely quiet for long, even now. “How’d it go? Princess Luna didn’t banish you or throw you in the dungeon, did she? She’s supposed to be the more forgiving princess.”

“She was,” Tracy began. “It didn’t go quite the way I expected, but nobody’s going to prison. My friends get to go home where they belong, except…” His eyes finally settled on Shane. “I hope you were sure about all that, Shane. If you think this was a joke, or that this place isn’t real somehow, you’ll regret it. You’re committed now.”

“The volunteer has been given quarters in the lunar wing until he’s assigned,” said one of the guards. “If your case is like any of the others we’ve seen, you’ll have a chance to pick up anything you might need from Canterlot before you’re sent away.”

The bat took a step closer to him, though she had to look up to meet Shane’s impressive stature. “Take advantage of Luna’s generosity. Others elsewhere in Equestria may not embody that Element of Harmony as effectively. You’ll need an escort while you’re in Canterlot, but there are plenty of ponies on shift right now who could use some time away from the castle. You’ll just have to make do with the bat shops.”

“Alright, thank you,” Shane said, exhaustion dripping from his voice. But while he might be on the edge of consciousness, he still looked relieved. His shoulders were no longer slouched. If anything, he was smiling. “I’m sorry to get the rest of you tied up in all this. Though I still think you shouldn’t have followed me.”

“I think you should’ve told me,” Tracy interrupted. “What you guys did to Rose and I was unacceptable. I was willing to let you visit, even take you to Equestria to look around. But this is wrong. You owe me an apology, but you owe Rose twice as much.” He glowered at them both. Maybe it was his height, or the guards with similar-looking wings gathered around. But all three of his friends lowered their heads in shame. 

“I’m sorry,” Anton said. “It wasn’t supposed to… We thought Tracy might be in trouble. Then we knew Shane was in trouble. Nothing about this happened the way we wanted. I’m sorry. And thanks for bailing us out.”

“Me too,” Marshall said. “All the same stuff. We screwed up. I dunno how to make it up to you.” He finally turned towards Shane, expression hardening a little. “Not sure what we do about you, Shane. Do we tell your family that you emigrated to a fictional country full of horses?”

“No.” He glared back. “Whatever you tell them, keep Tracy out of it. Just tell them I told you I was joining up with an oil crew or something. I’ll have to figure out how to… break the news. But Tracy has a local address.” He turned back to the guard. “Does Equestria have mail.”

“Yes?” She tilted her head to one side, confused.

“Good. Once I figure out what to say, I’ll write something. The jackals will be closing in to find me either way. But they’ll never get me in here.”

“You’re honestly going to say this is all for money?” Anton asked, staring at Shane. “Since we might not ever see you again, at least tell us straight. You know people can get through stuff like this. You’re not the only one to have money trouble.”

Shane walked past them, to the shuttered palace door. He pushed gently on it with a hoof, and it swung outward. The magical glow of crystal streetlamps lit the city below. The pony capital was mostly asleep now, but a few districts were still lit up. Tracy could just make out a faint music echoing from distant instruments. A bat-band, maybe?

“Money’s why I pulled the trigger. But look at this place. I can see why Tracy didn’t run screaming from his apartment. We stumbled into something incredible. I’ve had a lifetime to watch opportunities pass by. This time I’m seizing it.”

“Do your time and keep your word,” Tracy urged. “If you mail me anything, I’ll try to forward it on. I’ll… probably just mail it back from somewhere across town, so it doesn’t get traced back to this house. God help me if some detective comes banging on my door asking to know where you went. But when you’re done, feel free to stop by and say hello. Just knock, this time, please.”

There were a few more minutes of goodbyes. Tracy probably would’ve been considerably more upset not to talk to one of his best friends again—but the pain and frustration from the break-in didn’t just go away. In a way, Shane was the only one who would be doing something to pay back that debt to society.

While Shane was led away, the rest of their little group made their way out to the upper train station to wait for the morning express.

“Keep an eye on Shane for us, if you can,” Anton said. “We’ll… probably drive back home tomorrow. Maybe we can leave before most people realize we were gone. Things are gonna go nucking futs either way. If anyone comes asking questions, try not to implicate us or whatever. The last thing we need is to be suspects in a murder investigation for someone who is definitely still alive.”

“Sure,” Tracy answered, without enthusiasm. “Right now I’m just hoping this whole thing didn’t cost me my job.”





It didn’t, though the disappointment on Janet’s face that Tuesday almost felt like it was about to. Tracy apologized every way he knew how, volunteering for extra hours and every other unpleasant duty he didn’t already have as the newest member of the department.

It was her words at the end of their little work meeting that hit him the hardest. “If you really had an emergency at home that needed taking care of, Apex is understanding. But this isn’t just missing the one day.” 

She leaned across the desk, steepling her fingers together. “Your work is slipping, Tracy. When your application came across my desk, I saw some real potential. I still see that potential in you, whenever you choose to apply yourself.

“But that isn’t what I’ve seen the last few weeks. I find you exhausted in your chair, barely scraping into work on time. I see you missing community-building with the rest of the department. And when you do show up, you’re watching the clock.”

She gestured, and he rose. It was probably stupid, but he felt the weight of guilt pressing down on him. This wasn’t just his escape, his lifetime ambition—Janet had taken a chance on him, and he was letting her down.

“We aren’t just a nine-to-five here at Apex. With work like yours, there are a dozen places you can go like that. Punch a clock, give them some decent assets, go home again. Not here. Your first employee review is coming in November. Decide now what you want me to tell corporate.”

Tracy slunk out to his car that day like a puppy that had pissed the carpet. Instead of a mark of pride, his lanyard itched at his neck. He barely even flashed it at security as he made his way out to the car.

What was I supposed to do, tell her I’m living in another universe and my friends almost got themselves life in prison for breaking in? Maybe he should come up with a more believable cover story. Something about an ailing parent could probably work—but he didn’t have the heart to lie about them now. 

He grunted as he got into his car, shuffling around until he found the uncomfortable weight and pulled it out. It was the flying handbook, a little squished given how long it had lived in his pocket. I wonder if I should cancel the rest of those classes. 

He didn’t cancel anything, except his previously regular trips to the Arby’s. The thought of all that roast beef made his stomach turn. I’ll just catch breakfast with Rose before she goes to work.

He slowed as he approached the front door, finding a figure already standing in front of the house. For a second he froze, preparing to flee if it were the police or something. But no, it was someone much more dangerous.

Discord spun as he approached, adjusting his patchwork suit with the flourish of one hand. Now that Tracy knew what he was looking for, he could faintly make out slight differences in skin tone where the creature underneath had the body parts of different species. It was definitely the same demon.

“I was hoping to see you, Tracy. Here.” He tossed something towards him, and Tracy nearly ducked—but it was just a set of keys. 

He caught it, stumbling for a step, but managed not to trip. Just behind Discord, the door was entirely different. It was clearly metallic now, even with a layer of white paint on top. “I was planning on replacing the locks.” 

“Nope, that won’t be necessary. I’ve taken steps to deter further break-ins. You don’t have anything to worry about, protecting my tenants is part of my responsibility. You had nothing to do with the last break-in. I will deal with them how I choose.”

Tracy fell silent, staring down at the keys. He might not know very much about Discord, but he’d heard enough. He was deeply feared in Equestria, even after apparently “reforming.” Considering what other Equestrians could do, he didn’t particularly want to think about what would happen to anyone else who tried to break in.

“Of course the terms of your lease haven’t changed. Who would I be to hold a grudge?” 

He closed the distance between them in a flash, so rapid that Tracy barely even realized he had moved. He stumbled, almost falling over again. “I know you don’t think so, but I’m heavily invested in your success. If you fail here, that’s when you should be worried.” 

He broke away suddenly, backing up towards the street. Tracy was positive his mismatched car hadn’t been there a few minutes before, but it was parked just beside his own, already waiting.

If Discord was an ordinary person, Tracy would’ve never tolerated threats. Under the circumstances, he just stood there and watched him go. If all he does is threaten me, this isn’t so bad. My friends did get to leave.

He waited for another minute more, until Discord had finally driven away. Only then did he venture back up the steps. He scanned over the door, inspecting it for any dangers. But there were no threats he could see—just a heavy metal front door, of a similar shape and heft to the ones used on some government buildings.

How did he get it here, anyway? How did Discord make it back to Equestria when he was done tormenting Tracy? Did he live on Earth, with his absurd real-estate business and car that didn’t work?

I’d feel a little better about all this if I knew what Discord wanted me to do. The new keys slid smoothly into place, as of course they would. When the door swung open, the house was exactly as he remembered. The inner door was shut—and if Rose knew who had been working out here, she was probably cowering in terror on the other side.

Tracy found himself smiling at the idea of seeing her again. Maybe now that his friends were gone, things would finally return to normal.
> Chapter 33
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

At least Tracy was half right: Roseluck was just inside, glancing nervously at the door. She was so frightened in fact that she hadn’t actually prepared anything despite the time. A few cucumbers and some leafy green things that Tracy figured were probably healthy were arranged on the cutting board, untouched.

“Is he gone?” Rose whispered, leaning to one side to squint around him.

“Yep.” Tracy kicked the door closed with one leg, practically dragging himself in the rest of the way. “One nightmare has been resolved. Friends gone, door fixed… everything is back to normal.” Except that work says I’m slipping, and I might lose my job.

He slumped into a kitchen chair, shifting uneasily in the strangely converted not-clothes the gateway had given him. Maybe he should try wearing less of it around Equestria. It wasn’t like anyone here would care. 

“Good.” Rose settled into the chair across from him, resting one hoof on his. “You look awful. Was he that bad?”

“I dunno? Maybe. It’s mostly work on my mind. I had to miss some thanks to Shane’s border-hopping adventure, and they weren’t happy about that. Where I’m working, reliability is king. Vanishing unexpectedly, not so much.”

Rose nodded. “Well, I can sympathize. Not like I’d fire myself from the flower stand, but… if there’s not a stand anymore, it’s the same thing. Wanna get breakfast in town? I always feel better after I eat.”

Work tomorrow. If I go in wasted and tired, Janet will notice. I need to show her that I’ve changed. But Rose watched from across the table, grinning hopefully. Maybe it was just Discord interrupting her breakfast, but this was more than a casual request. How could he say no to that face? “Sure. I can’t stay out all day, though. I really have to get to bed on time.”

Rose hurried to put her half-finished meal away, then they made their way out. “We won’t take long. I’m working soon too. Stand is doing much better now, but it might not be if we don’t stay on top of things.”

Ponyville had started to look familiar to him. No sidewalks, but the streets still felt more inviting. There was something special about people just walking around, instead of being locked in cars and busses. Even if it was just a polite wave or a few words to wish him good morning. He’d been here long enough that the surprise and covert glances at his bat wings were all gone now. A few of them could even say his name right.

Rose’s choice of cafe was the same Café Hay they always went, but he didn’t mind. Ponyville didn’t have much selection, but that was just like Ely. He’d trade some options for knowing the owner and being able to talk to the chef. 

He barely even paid attention to what he was ordering. Rose grinning at him from across the table was far more enjoyable to look at. Oh crap he was staring.

He looked away awkwardly, scanning for something nearby he could be plausibly looking at. There weren’t many other patrons eating today, and none of them were anywhere nearby. “So the stand is doing better?” he asked. “What’s your next big holiday?”

But if Rose noticed his staring, she didn’t react. Had she been watching him too? “Nightmare Night. You wouldn’t think there would be much demand, but loads of ponies choose flowers for their fall displays. Some even want black flowers, and those varieties are usually rare and difficult to raise. We really get our bits worth for those.”

“Just do what you did for the last festival—project based on past history and eliminate the poorly-selling arrangements. That increase in efficiency is worth a little disappointment.” 

“I know!” She stuck her tongue out, then flushed red as their server arrived. Apparently Tracy had chosen pancakes with a rich, meaty-looking sauce. But it couldn’t be real meat, right? His tongue watered even at the smell. “I didn’t forget what we figured out. My sisters are still having nightmares over the terminal, but at least they haven’t lit the stall on fire or anything.” She sighed. “Mom would’ve been all over those charts and sheets. Probably would’ve called you a catch just for knowing your way around numbers.”

“Called me a—” He hesitated, balancing a fork between both his hooves. It was a good thing he had fur on his face right now, or she’d see his embarrassment for sure. 

“Probably,” Rose went on, oblivious. “When I was younger, Dad never asked questions about who I was seeing. Mom was always the one trying to set me up with somepony. ‘You won’t be young forever, Rose. Someone has to pass the flower stand onto our grandchildren, and you know it won’t be Lily. You’re the oldest.’”

She froze, eyes narrowing. “I… sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about that. You’re one of the few ponies who knows what that’s like, but… you’re not even a pony. I used to think about it all the time, how I had some invader living across the hall. But now I have to remind myself that you don’t really belong here.”

He lowered his fork to the plate, moving slowly. If he wasn’t always constantly exhausted, he probably would’ve stopped there. But it was hard to be rational after today. “We could just make it official, if you want.” His eyes scanned the restaurant around them, but there was nopony watching. Plenty of Ponyville regulars went about their lives, none were close enough to listen.

“What?” She tilted her head to the side, confused. “What do you mean?”

“We’re spending all this time together anyway,” he finished. “I wish some of it hadn’t been making rescues for people who should’ve known better, but… still. Might as well just call it a date.” That little voice in the back of his head was screaming now. There was no good way for this to end.

Suddenly he began to doubt that ponies couldn’t blush, because her face lit up. Her ears pressed flat. She stared across the table at him, suddenly serious. “You signed when I did—that means your lease ends in five months. After that, you walk through the front door, leave Equestria behind…”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, Roseluck. Maybe that happens, maybe not. But five months is a long time. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but it’s… longer than I’ve ever been with anyone anyway. Not sure if it was me, or maybe just fate. But it gets awkward living in the same small town after a while.”

I’m just digging myself in deeper. Tracy what are you doing shut up this is stupid and pointless forget it—

She choked, covering her mouth with one leg. He leaned towards her across the table—but she was only laughing. “Same, except it wasn’t fate for sure, it was definitely them. Most bats are migratory.” She sunk lower into her cushion, staring bleakly down at her plate. “Sweet Celestia, Daisy and Lily will never let me hear the end of this. I’ve been telling them for months that we weren’t seeing each other.”

That doesn’t sound like no. He leaned towards her across the table, prodding her foreleg with a hoof. He might not know very much about ponies, but they couldn’t be that different from humans, could they? If the attractiveness translated, maybe everything else did too.

“So it’s a date?” He grinned, hoping the weird bat teeth made him look confident instead of terrified. “I'm gonna have to owe you for this food, then. My dad would kill me if I let a lady pay for food.”

She returned the smile, albeit less confidently. “You’ll have to get clever to figure that one out, Tracy. I don’t think your money works here.”

She hadn’t been willing to just say it, but… maybe this was good enough. Or you could tell her how stupid you’re being and to shut up before you hurt someone. Hadn’t Discord been threatening him about something like this just an hour ago?

“Buck, I have to get to work!” Rose bolted out of her chair, making it halfway to the street before she darted back. She dug into her satchel, tossing a pile of bits out onto the table. “You can give them the bits, keep the change. I probably owe you more than a few flying classes for all your help with the flower shop. We’ll have to do something soon.”

Was he allowed to stare now? Or was that still creepy? “Yeah,” he said, his voice strained. “How about on my side next time? Then I can pay. I think you’d like movie theaters too. It’s not all creepy purple monsters blowing stuff up.”

She froze, one hoof over the button to her satchel. “Canterlot first, before your flying class. If you don’t go straight off the cliff, then I’ll come with you. One time. No promises about after that.”

Then she kissed him. It wasn’t much, just a brief peck on the cheek, before turning to gallop off so fast he barely saw her tail. But it was still enough to freeze him in his seat, watching the crowd long after she left.





He finished his pancakes in silence, his face still red. Had all that just happened? Discord is not going to like this. There was nothing at all in the lease about the two of them, just the basics about tenants having shared responsibility for chores and respecting public areas.

There is no way in hell any of this is a good idea. I just asked a little horse if we were official. We live in the same house, naked almost all the time. We’re both trapped in place by a deal with the devil we can’t leave. 

You’re a little horse too, Tracy. What did you expect to happen? 

This would all be so much easier if she’d just kept thinking that he was an evil invader trying to scout Equestria for weaknesses. She’d never given him a second glance back then.

Actually no, that wasn’t true. She’d been watching him closely since the beginning. Everypony who knew Rose already thought they were dating.

And if somehow we’re not too different and this actually turns into something, Rose already knew what would happen next. My time in Equestria will run out, and it’s time for heartbreak. 

Too bad he couldn’t just go pretending that this hadn’t happened. I can’t get her out of my head.

“Excuse me, sir,” said the waiter, offering a folder with the bill. Tracy reached out with a wing, scraping up the pile of bits into it. It was much more than he needed—he wasn’t the only one on edge. He kept the rest on the table, looking down at the pancakes. “What kind of syrup was that, anyway? I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

The waiter snapped the folio shut, taking a step back. “I gave you the, uh… exotic menu. I believe you ordered a lac beetle crêpes flambées.”

“Oh.” Tracy felt his stomach twist just once, but this time he didn’t gag. The taste was still on his tongue, sweet and savory at the same time. “Thanks, uh…”

“Savoir Fare,” the waiter said. “Come again.”

Tracy took the fork in his hooves, taking another large bite. “I will.”

He should probably have headed straight home after that, to lay sleeplessly for a few hours with anxiety over how much of an idiot he’d just been. Instead, he gathered the rest of Rose’s bits into a pocket, and hurried off for the library.

It was a long-shot that anyone inside would know how to help him—maybe even less likely that they would be willing to help after the mess he’d made for the local princess. But he had to find out. The worst they could do was tell him no.




> Chapter 34
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy didn’t have to ask for directions to the library this time. Though with the way it towered over Ponyville, he’d have to be blind to miss it. 

He didn’t hurry, and more than once considered turning back and abandoning this crazy idea completely. But he’d already made a few steps towards insanity—there was no turning back now. If I don’t find something, my real life will fall apart before this fake one has a chance to go anywhere interesting. Maybe Shane had the right idea after all—cross into Equestria and never look back.

He suppressed a yawn as he climbed the library stairs, one of the few people inside this early. It was just him and a few bored-looking guards.

Eventually he reached the top, and the rows of identical books on those incredible crystal glass shelves. He passed several empty reading nooks, scanning the labels between each section. This library might be primitive compared to even his old hometown, but at least they still separated books by section.

“Hey,” said a familiar voice, startling him. Not the princess, thankfully. He turned, and was face to face with the little purple dragon. “You need help finding something?”

You people must be bored. But then, there wasn’t anyone reading today. He couldn’t complain. “Maybe. I need something about… medicine, I guess? Or magic. I’m not sure. I’m looking for something that might not exist in your world, and I’m not even sure where to start.”

At first Spike had barely been listening—but then he perked up, settling his scroll aside on a nearby table. Tracy caught a glimpse of colorful comic book pages hidden behind it before the dragon spread his wings, concealing it. “Right, I remember hearing something about… visiting creatures from another world. You’re the one who had all those weird law questions. The deal with Discord?”

“Yep.” He slumped into a nearby cushion. “I’m not sure if what I’m looking for even exists. Maybe you could tell me if this sounds crazy? If I spend all night searching for something that doesn’t exist, I’ll feel even stupider at work tomorrow.”

“All night, huh?” Spike nodded knowingly. “Alright, bat from another world. What are you looking for? I’ll have you know that not even Twilight knows these shelves as well as I do—not since she’s so busy being princess. It’s kinda technically my hoard or whatever? But most of it is boring, so I don’t mind lending it out.”

“Right.” He looked up. “So suppose I’m having trouble with needing to… sleep. I have to do things in my world, or else my life is ruined. But I want to do things in Equestria too. The way things lined up, your day is twelve hours ahead of mine. So every time I come here I’m only a few hours before bed. I can’t stay to do things with my… new friends without ruining life on the other side. Is there anything I can…”

Something struck him then, a memory of something months old. He probably should’ve ignored it, knowing the source. But not after what had just happened between him and Rose. “I think I remember something… I was supposed to see a doctor about a prescription? Are there any books about real drugs?”

“Maybe.” Spike rose, turning down the shelves apparently at random. But he strode with purpose, and Tracy had no choice but to follow close behind. “I don’t know the first thing about sleep, but it sounds like that came from a potions manual. I’m guessing one for the ‘exotic tribes.’” He lowered his voice, wings folding. “No offence. Old writers didn’t really think they were making things for anyone but the three biggest pony tribes.”

Like the menu. “I’m not offended or anything. I don’t even really look like this, so I can’t complain.” 

Spike slowed, glancing over his shoulder. “Really? Didn’t you just say you were a visiting bat?”

“Not exactly, but…” He hesitated. “Close enough. I’d probably stay up all night and sleep all day if I didn’t have a nine-to-five. Does that count?”

Spike only nodded knowingly. “Living by a pony schedule is a terrible burden. I know your pain.” Eventually the little dragon took them to a rolling ladder attached to the shelves, and slid along to “Medicine.” He clambered up the shelves, emerging with three hefty titles in his arms. “If you’re gonna find anything about it, try these. First one is the biggest, so… answer’s probably there. The older and bigger the book, the more useful it’ll be.”

I’m gonna need three magical shots of espresso to make it to work at this rate. Tracy couldn’t take all three books at once, not without balancing them on his back. Somehow he doubted the dragon would appreciate him damaging part of the “hoard.” Spike helped him to a table, then took a few steps back. “I’m not as good with research, that’s more Twilight’s thing. But you should look at the indexes and go from there.”

“Thanks.” Tracy waved a friendly bat wing. “I’ll see what I can find.”

“Just don’t get your hopes up,” Spike warned. “It kinda sounds like you’re looking for a cure for having to sleep. If there were a way to do that, Twilight would’ve started years ago. She’d never give up all that extra reading time.”

“Yeah, I know.” He spread the books out on one of the reading tables. “Where I come from we have ways some people try to use to sleep less. But there’s nothing perfect, and nothing that really sticks. Coffee can do a lot, but it isn’t magic.”

“Don’t tell Pinkie,” the dragon muttered, wandering back to his slow circuit of the mostly empty library.

Tracy selected the largest and oldest as Spike had suggested. If this were anything like medicine on Earth, that advice would probably be the worst he could receive: the more up to date the medical information, the more likely it would help. Maybe that’s still true, and dragons are superstitious? 

But it wasn’t like Tracy would be fooled by pony homeopathy, even if the rest of their world seemed magical.

There was nothing in the oldest book—mostly it was techniques for treatment of various strange injuries. Torn bat wings, shattered crystal limbs, and ingrown scales… probably all useful stuff, though the illustrations were detailed enough to make his stomach turn worse than eating bugs.

The second book was more promising. Practical Potions for the Globetrotter was made using the same printing and crude block techniques of the other books he’d seen so far, but the paper was fresher, and it lacked the musty smell. Much more importantly, there was a drug about sleep listed in the index.

He flipped to the page, and there it was. Everwake was apparently a potion, “taken primarily by thestral ponies to minimize the hormonal difficulties caused by a diurnal lifestyle.”

There was no advice to see a doctor—this was the actual recipe, which he was probably better off not seeing. Lots of plant names he’d never heard of, and various apparently magical things to be added in a particular way. He skimmed past all that to the description of effects and purpose. After a few flowery paragraphs of background and origin, he found what he was looking for. 

“Once prepared, a modest dose of Everwake grants the user full alertness so long as it remains in the body, usually about twelve hours. It can be taken when rising to join diurnal creatures for their activities, while postponing the requirement for rest. Creatures who require a longer shift must consume another dose when drowsiness returns, but not before it fully sets in.

“This should not be seen as a means to avoid sleep entirely, however, but a way of rapidly inducing an alternate rhythm of waking and sleep. Unlike nonmagical methods, the debt of missed sleep while consuming Everwake will accumulate, at a rate approximately equal to three hours per dose. After even a few consecutive doses, the user will become completely incapacitated and fall into a semi-vegetative state until the debt is paid. 

“Users are thus encouraged to avoid long-term consumption of Everwake, particularly for extended periods. It is most effective as an aid for nocturnal creatures while transitioning to interact with the rest of Equestria.”

There was more detail, though Tracy didn’t need it. It seemed completely impossible, but no more than anything else he’d seen in Equestria so far. If castles could rise up into the clouds and his friends could change briefly into little horses, why not a magical potion to put off sleeping until later.

Discord was the one who told me to see a doctor about this. The same creature who tried to trap the souls of my friends here for breaking a lock. Using this probably helps his plans, somehow. It was no mystery why the princess didn’t rely on this stuff to study all night. It didn’t cure his need to sleep, just put it off. I could try to last until the weekend…

This would be so much easier to deal with if he knew what Discord was trying to get from him. Obviously, it was more than just rent. You wanted me to take this from day one. What’s the angle? If he used magical stimulants for a whole year, how long would he sleep?

He packed things up, settling the books one at a time on a return shelf before heading back out. He could bring a phone and take a few pictures of the books next time, but he didn’t think for a second he could actually craft something like that. Trusting the medical science of another universe was one thing, but trying to recreate it himself was a bridge too far.

“Did you find what you needed?” Spike asked, waving him down near the entrance. “I thought you’d be here for hours.”

“Yeah, I… I might have.” He slowed, hesitating. But he’d ridden this parade of mistakes so far, he might as well stay on a little longer. “Is there somewhere I can buy potions in Ponyville? I’d like to see if they’re selling it.”

“Only one. Zebra named Zecora visits once a week, usually sets up with stuff to sell in the market. Can’t miss her. If you want more selection, you’d probably have to mail order out to Canterlot or Manehattan. Kinda like for these.” He pushed the scroll to the side, exposing the comic he was actually reading. “Can’t buy anything fun in Ponyville. Barnyard Bargains has a catalogue. The big barn by the train station?”

“Thanks.” 

It was almost noon by the time he finally exited the library back into Ponyville proper. Another hour to place an order wouldn’t make things much worse. He stared off towards the train station, and could even make out the peak of a barn roof between the adorable Ponyville homes.

His pockets were heavy with bits, were they enough to buy potions? Yes, as it turned out. He expected the absurdly named proprietor to laugh when he asked for help placing an order for a “potion,” but Filthy Rich didn’t bat an eye. He dug around under the counter, emerging with an oversized folio of “medicinal curatives wondrous and mundane”. The Everwake was on an early page, beside a picture of a relieved-looking bat.

Tracy had barely enough bits for two weeks’ worth, the smallest quantity he could order.

“You can stop by with Friday’s train to pick up your order,” Filthy said, passing him a yellow slip of paper. “I’ll remember your face either way, but having that number handy will make it go quicker. Thanks for shopping with us!”

He slipped the paper away, wandering slowly out the way he’d come.
> Chapter 35
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy’s next few days of work weren’t good exactly, particularly with the weight of the flying manual in the back of his mind. Giselle had been clear about what would be happening during their next class—they’d be shoving him off a cliff. I probably should’ve been honest about my fear of heights. He couldn’t be the only one in a flying class who was afraid though, right? The others all lived in Equestria full time. They could’ve learned ages ago if something wasn’t stopping them. 

He made sure to leave the book at home, so he wouldn’t be tempted to cram through it in his spare moments. It didn’t give him back perfect focus—any moment some detective might come through the doors asking questions about Shane. But none did—maybe Anton and Marshall had successfully escaped suspicion back in Ely. Or maybe nobody cares. Nobody would care if I went missing.

The awkward meeting with Roseluck should’ve taken place that first night, giving them a chance to work out exactly what they’d just done, and what it meant for their relationship. But she wasn’t back yet when he woke for work. When he arrived after the first night, she was already gone—though she’d left a plate of oat cookies on the table for him.

So there was something else for him to obsess over at work, along with mysterious potions, possibly falling to his death, and an investigation into Equestria that broke his contract, invoking who knew what curses on his head.

Then Friday evening came, and he still hadn’t seen Rose. He wanted to rush home and follow her out to the flower stand if he had to, before his heart exploded with anxiety. But Janet stopped by his desk as work was winding down, waving weakly at him. “Great job this week, Tracy. Keep it up, and you’ll get right back on track. You going to O’Conner’s tonight?” Her tone made it clear what his answer had to be. He could only nod.

Under other circumstances, he probably would’ve enjoyed it more. But he was running out of time, and still hadn’t made it halfway through the flying manual. There were plenty of interesting women—from his department, and others. His normal self would’ve used the time more productively. Even if he didn’t have much to offer now, that was changing rapidly. Soon he’d be something at Apex Technology. 

But no matter how attractive they looked, he couldn't shake Rose from his mind. While he was out here, he couldn’t even articulate precisely what about her was so attractive. But the emotions were still there, ready to overflow his common sense as soon as he crossed into Equestria. She probably feels the same way about seeing me over here.

He politely turned down the drinks, and the long wait or potential Uber delay to get his car that would follow. Once the others had stopped talking shop and started taking seconds and thirds from the bar, he excused himself. 

It was close to midnight by the time he pulled up in front of his house, the real one this time. He didn’t expect Rose to be inside, and sure enough she wasn’t. She’d left him breakfast again—flowers this time, arranged into a friendly heart. Or maybe romantic, he couldn’t be sure. Ponies used little hearts for almost everything. He ate anyway, settling his stomach after a night of too many buffalo wings and ribs.

He stared down at the flight manual, bookmark still perilously close to the table. He could force himself to stay up and keep reading. Between now and before they left for lunch in Canterlot, he might be able to finish it.

Barnyard should have my Everwake by now. If I was ever gonna test it, might as well be the weekend.

His hooves were dragging slightly as he left, but he managed. The brilliant sunlight of Ponyville helped, confusing his brain but also reminding him that it was time to be awake again. Instead of marching straight past the flower stand, he took the long way, dodging past the marketplace. I don’t want her first time seeing me after almost a week to be sweaty and exhausted.

“Was wondering when we’d see you come in,” Filthy said, waving to him from the back counter. He rummaged around inside for a few moments, before hefting a pair of wooden crates attached by rough straps. They were divided in many sections, each one the right size for a little glass vial. 

“Seems a little wasteful, doesn’t it?” he asked, stopping short of putting it over his back. 

“Why, what do you mean?” Filthy punched a hole through his ticket, covering up the back cabinet with gray cloth to match the rest of the bland decor. “Barnyard Bargains prides itself on efficiency. It’s how we deliver ponies the lowest prices.”

“This.” Tracy pointed at a vial with one wing. “Twenty-eight little glass bottles, and all this packaging to hold them. Doesn’t that seem wasteful?”

“No,” Filthy said flatly. “Customers who order something like Everwake always come back for more. If you keep them in good condition, you return them with your next order for a hefty discount.”

“Sure.” Tracy fiddled with the container a moment, fighting with the nails until he could pry off the lid. He removed a single vial with one of his hooves. The liquid inside swirled as black as night, with little flecks of lighter material sparkling whenever it caught the sunlight. It didn’t look particularly appetizing, but it wasn't much more to drink at a time than a dose of cough syrup.

“But why not use one big bottle, and a measuring cup? I could pour my own, and just recycle the one bottle.”

He hesitated. “You know, I don’t know why Potion Nova manages them that way. Might be a tad safer if ponies always get the exact amount, but… for a potion like this, they aren’t measured down to the drop anyway. Might have to look into that.”

Tracy took the same circuitous route to get home as quickly as he could, conscious of the precarious arrangement of little vials packed with nothing more than bits of straw to protect them from shattering. Nopony reacted as he carried the potions home. He could only guess that meant they didn’t seem strange to the ponies of Equestria. No different from bringing home a prescription.

Except this one can put me into a coma if I’m not careful. He half expected the entire description to be wrong, and the potions to be nothing more than a powerful stimulant. If so, he wouldn’t waste his time.

He settled the vials on a shelf in his room, pushing a few stray books in the way so they wouldn’t be visible to passing observation. Just in case.

But by the time he made it back it was late into the afternoon. He was better off not starting the process by distorting his schedule to halfway through the night. But maybe I can use them to keep off ordinary tiredness. Stay up late, take one instead of a coffee. If they actually work, it shouldn’t make much difference.

He memorized as much as he could, but reading the basics of aerodynamics and various wing-positions was not helping him stay awake. At some point the words blurred together, and he collapsed onto the book in exhaustion.

His phone alarm didn’t go off on Saturday mornings, so nothing forced him to wake up for the true day on his side. He slept as much as he could, but real sleep wasn’t magic. The closer he got to Equestrian midnight, the more he had to get up.

It was a day to be daring—possibly his last, if flying went poorly. Tracy didn’t bother getting dressed in anything human today. His back legs felt a little strange without the usual not-socks, and his chest itched slightly without the vest, but that would probably pass. What was the point of getting dressed up if they didn’t provide modesty anyway?

Rose’s bedroom door was shut now, so she had come back at some point. We’re gonna have to talk about this sooner or later, Rose. Are we dating or not? He glanced once towards the exit to his world—was there anything he should get done before going out with Rose today? There were a few members of his department who came into work on weekends—but it wasn’t crunch time. He doubted Janet would be expecting that, even if he had the option.

He scooped up the book about thestral flight, and carried it to the couch facing Ponyville. He drew the blinds, revealing a dark sky smeared with stars. His flight book slipped through his wings, and Tracy just stared, momentarily awed by what he saw.

Apparently Ponyville didn’t keep their streetlights on all night. Maybe this was why?

It was a lot like home if he drove a few minutes out of town. Not like San Jose at all, where the sky was a perpetual amber smog of light pollution. But there was something different about these stars, or maybe just his eyes. They were so bright, in soft pastels of blue and white and yellow. He had to lean forward to see the moon high overhead, so bright he caught himself shielding his eyes with one leg. But that was pointless—he could stare right at it without discomfort.

Bats are nocturnal in Equestria, right? What do we do, anyway? Until meeting Princess Luna’s guards, Tracy hadn’t ever talked to one. Apparently they had their own market in Canterlot, that stayed open while ponies slept. Does Ponyville have something like that?

Tracy walked over to the door, nudging it open carefully with his muzzle. Unlike the human side, there weren’t any locks. He shivered once in a chill breeze, lifting his still-damp fur. But it wasn’t that bad yet. The ponies hadn’t “scheduled” fall to start in earnest for another week.





Shouldn’t the streets be darker? There were a few lights glowing from homes, and each one was a little bonfire in the otherwise comfortable blue glow. Too bad I can’t see this well back on Earth. I’d never have to worry about running out of flashlight batteries on a camping trip again.

Tracy didn’t have anywhere particular to go, precisely. It was at least one in the morning, maybe later. But if he had to stare at flight diagrams for another second, he would set himself on fire.

Something moved in the sky overhead, a faint flutter against the rustling of leaves and the occasional creak of withered wood. He squinted a moment, and… there. Up over a warehouse, there were shapes perched on the roof. There were several dark blurs, which resolved into pony outlines as he approached. Their voices came through clearly even at a distance, as they spoke and laughed and talked. “No way they notice. Did you see how many trees there were? Millions, I reckon. What’s one apple from the crown? Earth pony who owns the place never even saw it growing.” 

“It ain’t millions,” countered another, higher and more feminine. “Eight-hundred sixty-two. Less pears, I didn’t see them as clear.”

“Don’t be melodramatic,” interrupted another voice, lower and sharper than the first two. “I left payment at the farmhouse, same as everywhere else.”

Tracy was nearly at the building now. He slowed in his steps, suddenly conscious of one of the prime disadvantages of hooves. Unlike a pair of rubber sneakers, he broadcast every single step. “We can’t afford it, father,” said the first speaker. Now that Tracy was closer, he could see him clearly enough—a bat, not quite Tracy’s own size, with dark coat and wide wings. He wore a heavy cloth saddlebag over one shoulder, overflowing with lumps. He could smell the fruit even from here.

There were only the two others, the largest settled on his haunches near the peak of the room, and the smaller female flitting between the two males. All had the same leathery wings, and slightly reflective eyes. Almost at once, they turned toward him.

“Quiet,” the older hissed, his eyes narrowing towards his son. “You’ve made such a fool of yourself you woke the day ponies. We’ll have to find another perch.” He grumbled, spreading his wings, but the smaller one stopped him.

“Wait,” she said. “No, father. He’s one of us, can’t you smell?” She practically bounced up into the air, arcing in a predatory dive straight for him. 

He didn’t have a chance of getting away in time.




> Chapter 36
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy had only a split second to prepare for impact. Needless to say, the collision ended up non-lethal. She struck him with both forelegs, but without much force. He fell sideways, with the bat crouching over him like a cat who had just claimed a particularly juicy rodent. 

Given their teeth, he could only be grateful that he wasn't a mouse right now. Did bats eat mice? 

"I didn't know there were any bats in... where is this?" She grinned down, one hoof rested on his belly so he couldn't get up. Not without a fight, anyway. He felt stronger than this bat, but somehow a physical conflict just felt... wrong, somehow.

"Ponyville," he said. "And there aren't any regulars. I think a few night-guards stay in town when they're on business with the princess, but that's it." He rolled to the side, moving to stand—but she was faster, following him with both fangs exposed.

"Ponyville, right." She pulled on one of his wings with one hoof, opening it to full size. "Purple. What is an Eventide bat doing so far north from Batgota? I thought you hated living outside your caves."

Something settled onto the ground behind her—the other young-adult pony. "Let him go, Sable. You don't know who he is. Do you really think clanless bats should be starting feuds with strangers?"

She turned, seeming to almost forget about Tracy. "Come on, you know he's clanless too! Walking in the middle of the night. He's a drifter like us."

"Yes," he said, shoving her off and rising to his hooves. He shook out the dirt, wishing suddenly that he'd come dressed. Though maybe Sable would just see that as more reason to mock him. "I don't have a clan. Not here, and not back home." He trailed off, eyes going distant for a second. Of all the places he expected to be remembering the accident, Equestria wasn't high on that list. 

Sable backed away, crouching low and exposing both her fangs. Like a predator who'd just been challenged for territory. 

Let her try! I live here!

"Sorry about my sister." He rested one hoof on her shoulder, holding her back. "She's restless from a long flight and doesn't know how to behave herself. I’m Pitch Black. She’s Sable. Our father, Subsonic, is probably lurking somewhere nearby."

She spun, glaring at him. The shift in her body language was so distinct that for a second Tracy remembered he was living in a world of creatures with instincts far stronger than anything he was used to. She rose to full height, puffing out her chest and spreading her wings. "I don't know how to behave! You have Blood Sucker waiting for you when we get to Echo! Father's old. Of course this is easy for you. Let me do this my way!"

Then she spun on him again, crouching low and lifting her tail. "What's your name, clanless?"

Oh shit. Tracy might be dense, but he wasn't stupid. 

He backed away, both wings opening reflexively. "Tracy," he said, emphasizing the strangeness of it. "And I'm not what you think, I'm not from Batgota. I'm an alien from Ely, Nevada."

Pitch Black just raised an eyebrow, going from ambivalent to curious. Tracy couldn't see the older pony, but the elderly father couldn't be far away. Maybe he was watching from another rooftop?

Instead of relaxing or even acting confused at his answer, Sable advanced on him again. "That's such an exotic name. Tracy. Tracy. Tracy." She said it slightly different each time, emphasizing strange syllables. "What brought you to Ponyville? Somewhere called 'Ely'... is that even in Equestria?"

"Nope." He backed away from her, a few steps closer to home. But it was no use—Sable closed with every step, keeping pace. Rose and I are having our first date today. I do not need this. 

Back home, Tracy wouldn't have hesitated to get to know a girl like this. But now things were stable. She might be interested, but she also seemed crazy. This is why none of my relationships ever work out.

"Look, I'm sorry I snuck up on you all. I was just curious to see other bats. The only ones I've seen are guards, and they're pretty cagey. I'm still trying to wrap my head around pony tribal differences."

"Wings, ears, teeth," Sable said. "And most importantly, being awake at a reasonable hour. None of this '10 AM' stuff."

10 AM is early to you? But he didn't ask. His curiosity would have to wait for a saner opportunity.

"Leave him alone, Sable," Pitch said. "Take the hint. Bat living in Ponyville with all the day-ponies lies about his name. He's domesticated. You're better off alone than trying to drag someone like him along. Come on."

The word domesticated dug into Tracy's gut like a knife. But it was hard to argue. He was trying to hold down a job at the company he wanted, form a stable relationship... not fly off and explore. That Tracy was as dead as the rest of his family.

"Every bat has to fly south to Echo Caverns at least once!" Sable protested. "Even if you do live with day ponies and spend all your nights alone. You should go." She relaxed as she said it, straightening to stand beside her brother.

Better than trying to catch me like a cat, anyway. "What is it?" he asked, keeping his tone as flat as possible. "Like I said, I'm... new. I don't know anything about being a bat. I can't even fly."

He opened both wings, stretching and extending them before settling them closed again. Even if he could control them now, it still took an extra layer of concentration for a brain used to four limbs to deal with six.

"It's the yearly gathering of every clan from Luna Bay to Saddle Arabia," Sable said, voice recovering a little of her energy. “Everyone young and strong enough to fly goes, even if they have to set off weeks in advance. Did your family not tell you?"

He winced. "I'm not from here. I'm an alien. Does that word not... translate well? I'm from somewhere so different from Equestria, you couldn't even imagine it. I don't even have wings there."

"A bat without wings..." Sable muttered, tone confused. "How does that even make sense?"

"You two stop tormenting this stallion," called another deeper voice from just behind them. A second later and a set of hooffalls settled onto the pavement, and Subsonic appeared, burdened with heavy saddlebags. "He obviously has enough problems without saddling him with more. If he can't fly, he can't go to Echo Caverns anyway. We have more trades to make before sunrise, and only a few hours to go. Don't waste his time."

Pitch Black nodded, saluting with one wing over his head before taking off.

The mare hesitated for another second, expression confused. Unless it was... pity? "You can't fly? Are you lying about that too?"

He tensed. But his anger faded quickly. At least she hadn't called him “domesticated” again. "I didn't lie to you about anything. My name is Tracy. I'm from Ely, Nevada, and I can't fly." 

He jumped for effect, spreading his wings and flapping as hard as he could. It wasn't the first time he'd tried something like it, though it was the first time he'd ever done it where others could see. 

It felt almost like something was there. He hung in the air a little too long, fell a little too slow. But maybe that was his imagination, because a few moments later he touched down with a clatter of hooves, now winded as well as frustrated. 

"See?"

She giggled. Tracy wasn't watching the others, but he caught a few choked laughs from behind him as well. The brother was a little braver. "All this time with earth ponies made him as heavy as they are."

"Leave it," the father said, some annoyance in his voice. "We don't steal, and we don't torment strangers who are suffering. Come on."

"I'm not tormenting him!" Sable protested, surging forward. "You two go on and do the trades. I'm gonna... I'm gonna teach him! We have a few hours before sunrise. That's enough!"

Tracy froze, somewhere between horror and desperate hope. He hadn't gone anywhere close to finishing his reading assignment, it was true. Could these bats show him something the books didn't? "Can you really do that?"

"Duh." She turned away from him, flicking her tail in his face. "Come on, Tracy. We need to find something tall."

"Don't get him killed," the older stallion called. "He's one of them, don’t forget. If anything happens, it's always our fault. Even if it's not."

"Nothing's gonna happen!" Sable called. "Now come with me, alien pony named Tracy. We're running out of moonlight."

He shouldn't have, not with the way she acted. But he'd seen her fly, and she did that almost perfectly. The flight school barely even understood how bats worked. Their reference book was brand new.

So he followed. They hiked for a short distance, up a steep hill leading away from Ponyville. Tracy knew almost nothing about that direction, except that the powerlines suggested the city's power-plant must be out there, for what little electricity they did use. 

While they walked, Sable demonstrated a few basics for him about flight. She was always up in front of him, always wanted him watching her. Whenever he fell too silent, or mentioned something other than a question about flight, she showed him something else.

"You won't ever be flying like a pegasus, with their huge feathery wings. Taking off without a running start is much harder. Or you can use a drop—once you're falling, it's easy."

He learned more from watching her in ten minutes than he'd ever extracted from that dreadful reference manual. That was no less true even when Sable spent half her time showing off.

"Here's a good stop to jump from," she said, gesturing down at a steep, grassy hill. Not a cliff exactly, but it was sharp enough that he might bounce and roll all the way down to the river far below if he slipped. "The easiest kind of flying is gliding. Once you can do that, then the basics are just dives, climbs, banks... but they're all easy."

"I... can't glide," he muttered, stopping one hoof at the edge of the slope. The grass was relatively thick and comfortable looking, though it was as tall as his chest in places. I can't forget, even here I'm a little pony. The world isn't bigger, I'm smaller.

"You can now!" Sable called. She spread both wings wide beside him, using the first of the stances she'd demonstrated. "Run down the edge, spread your wings, and you'll fly. With as much magic as we have, and a hill this steep... you won't have a choice!"

"You go first," he muttered, taking a nervous step from the edge. He opened both wings slowly, imitating her stance as best he could. At least the positions seemed natural, with wings slightly bent at the joints. "I'll copy you."

"No. Same time." She turned, grinning with those wickedly sharp teeth. "Unless my brother was right. Are you domesticated after all? Afraid of being in the sky?"

Tracy barely even listened to the rest of what she had to say. He charged over the edge of the hill, spreading both wings as wide as he could.
> Chapter 37
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy's world was a blur. He felt his hooves below him, scrabbling desperately at the grassy slope. One slip and he'd be sent tumbling, before he could get purchase in the air. There was no stopping now—the ground just kept getting steeper, slipping away below him faster than he could keep up.

Then one hoof slipped on a bit of loose gravel. He had three others—but while galloping, only one struck at a time. By the time the next hit the ground, it only kicked out at empty air.

A wall of force struck his wings, pulling at his back as he'd never felt before. But this was what Sable had warned him about during the entire climb, and he was ready for it. He fought with underdeveloped wing-muscles, keeping his wings extended. Nothing else mattered, so long as he didn't let go.

Tracy looked down, eyes widening as the ground fell away. He was still headed towards the river, but now his path was almost level, and the river's watery outline grew more distant along with the rest of the land. 

"Told you it was easy," Sable said, gliding in behind him and circling at a short distance. Now that he was watching her wings, he stared at her complex motions, opening and closing and flapping and arcing as though she'd been doing this her whole life. Which... she had, obviously. "You start with a glide, then everything is simple after that."

"This doesn't... feel simple," he panted. Tracy looked down again, as a few scraggly trees passed under his hooves. He tucked them up against his chest, shivering once. "Is this a bad time to mention I'm afraid of heights?" He began breathing rapidly, his wings rigid. It was no longer difficult to hold them that way, no matter the strain on his muscles. The hard part would be getting them to release again when he landed.

"Afraid of heights?" Sable repeated. She flew up in a high arc right in front of him, started stalling, then caught herself with her wings, gliding back to him. She wasn't so much flying as swimming through an invisible ocean, one that she could only push through with wings. 

"Being afraid of heights makes sense when they're dangerous to you. Once you can do this, not so dangerous anymore. Jumping off a building is just faster than taking the stairs, it's not dangerous. Canyons and mountains and hills are the same way."

Easy for you to say. You were born with wings. But he knew better than to bother trying to explain his own past again. For as eager as she'd been to help, she would probably just ignore him again. "I'm not sure I'm at that level yet!" he shouted. He didn't mean it to sound so terrified, but he also couldn't help himself. His legs were already tucked up as low as they could go, but it didn't help.

Actually, it was making things worse. His glide was gradual and gentle, but even so he was inclined slightly downward, picking up speed. He left the river behind, and soon was passing over fruit trees instead, fast enough that they started to blur. 

"That gliding part was great, but... maybe you should tell me how to stop? Or turn around, or... anything? Ground is getting closer, Sable!"

"Deep breaths," she said, keeping up with him with relative ease. How could he feel like the whole world was completely out of control, yet she basically held still beside him? "I'll show you. We'll pull up, okay? Your speed will get converted to altitude, so we can turn back towards town after. Gradual is better than dramatic, okay? Gradual angles, or else you'll lose all your lift and hit the ground like a rock."

That is not what I needed to hear right now! Still, with his heart pounding and adrenaline surging through his veins, Tracy could think of little else. He watched with laser focus as she tilted her wings, and seemed to shoot upward away from him. Good thing too—there was a little cluster of farmhouses up ahead, approaching with frightening speed.

Tracy strained, focusing on his wings. It took quite a bit of concentration to tilt them in such a gentle way, when all he'd really learned to do in all these months was open and close them. 

His back burned as he tilted upward, bowing out his wings in the middle and shooting him suddenly up, so fast that he flew past Sable and nearly smacked into her. He squealed, voice so high-pitched it was more like a squeak, echoing through the forest.

But as fast as he ascended, he began to decelerate, both forward and vertically. "Sable! What now?"





She zipped up beside him, yanking on one of his hooves and twisting him around to face Ponyville. "Same as before, silly! Glide back!"

You cheated! That wasn't teaching me how to turn! But with his heart racing and the world now even further than it had been before, Tracy didn't question her. What if Sable left him up here, to coast for miles and miles until he died in the first inter-universal self-propelled aeronautics accident?

"This is not easy," he said, frustration coming through despite his best efforts. "My back is on fire, feels like my wings are going to rip off... and we're only higher up than before!"

"That's not how conservation of energy works," Sable muttered, apparently unaffected. "But we'll be landing on the south side of Ponyville, which is downhill of where we started. I guess it might look like it."

"That's not the point!" He turned on her, his own teeth exposed. "I shouldn't be up this high! I could die here!"

"You could die walking through the cave," she countered, grinning back. "Never known when a stalactite is gonna fall and crush you. But you're up here living, right? Can't predict the future, but we can make the present awesome!"

"I'll settle for not dying when I try to land." Tracy lowered his legs slowly, as though by letting go he might start falling again. He didn't, of course. It wasn't that hard to keep his wings extended, though if he wanted to keep doing this, he was going to have to practice much more.

Are there gyms for wings? Maybe he could work out on the human side and cheat the transformation of the door somehow.

As he glided back towards Ponyville, Sable went on and on with various flying tips. All of them seemed useful, but she wasn't a terribly good teacher. Instead of sticking to the basics, she went from simple instructions for how to stop for a landing, then transitioned to a story about one time she'd ended up in a tropical storm with her family.

"Always fly up," she explained. "That's the only chance you have. Get above the storm, and you can wait for it to pass. Try to cut through it, and your wings will get torn to pieces. Pitch still has a wicked scar from a bit of wood that went right through his wing."

There was at least one good thing about their conversation: it gave him something else to focus on. The ground was getting closer, and this time there would be no returning to altitude to coast. 

"Sounds like your lives are... quite the adventure," he said. "I guess I kinda did the same thing for a while—living out of my car so I could get a job in San Jose. But the longer I kept at it, the worse it felt. I want a home, somewhere. Even if it's not the place I thought it would be."

"Most ponies do," she whispered, looking away from him for the first time in several minutes. "Even the bats. There's this stereotype that the day ponies are always saying—they expect us never to stay in one place. But most bats have a cave and they never move out. They just mistake a yearly migration for always being on the move. The ones who don't stick around... have our own reasons. Like my family. No clan means no cave. No cave, no home."

He fell silent, watching his flight carefully as the ground came rushing up to meet them. Tracy spread his wings wide for his best attempt at a breaking maneuver. He slowed, but this time the strain was too much for his back. His wings bent all the way, and he dropped abruptly, skidding and bumping and rolling.

He curled up, shielding his face with his forelegs while his wings folded. He still slid for several meters, before finally coming to a stop at the edge of a dirt road.

For a few seconds he just lay there, curled tight and breathing heavily. Was anything broken? It didn't feel like it. His legs stung, and a brief glimpse told him he'd been cut in a few places.

Finally he rose, shaking away the dirt and bits of grass. He half-expected most of Ponyville to be watching and laughing, but no. There was just a crude wooden fence, and a few dairy cows grazing in a pasture beyond. 

"Well that could've been worse. At least it was just the cows who saw that." And his teacher, but that might be for the best. Any impression that he was somehow exotic and interesting couldn't possibly survive contact with reality.

Apparently neither could his own ideas. One of the cows—a massive creature, easily twice as high as the fence, took a few lumbering steps towards him, its eyes somehow comprehending in a way no cow had ever looked before. "Maybe we're just too polite to laugh at a pony who doesn't know how to fly, don’t cha know," she said. 

"I..." Tracy backed away, his ears pressed flat. "I'm so sorry. I didn't..." know you were sapient. "I'm sorry." He turned, and nearly smacked into Sable. He dodged around her, hurrying to the dirt road and into a nervous trot. The cows did laugh now, though thankfully that was all they did. If they were smart, they could probably get through that fence without much effort. It might not even be there for them at all.

"Cows talk too?" he muttered. It seemed like such a small thing compared to everything else he'd been through that night, but also so fundamental. Ponies were easy to put into a separate box to earth animals—they looked and acted almost nothing like any horse he'd ever seen. But the cows... how many times had he seen them grazing in Ponyville’s pastures?

How many times have I had cheese in my omelets? Oh god, are the chickens smart too?

"Your landing didn't look that hard," Sable said, conversationally. "Did you hit something worse than I thought? You look... sick."

"No," he sighed, twisting one of his legs so she could see. "Cut myself, but it's nothing a little Neosporin and liquid bandage can't fix. I'll apply it on the Earth side and just assume that it translates correctly over here. Should have a little time before Rose wakes up."

He stopped abruptly, right in the middle of the road. The path into Ponyville was still deserted. But if the smoke rising from a few chimneys meant anything, it probably wouldn't be for long. There was no smog in the sky overhead, and even the homes produced only a faint trickle of woodsmoke. It smelled like family camping trips, not pollution. 

"Thanks for teaching me all that," he said. "It's more than I could've asked for. Even if..." He winced again, rubbing one injured foreleg against the other. "Well, the landing was my fault. I need more practice."

"You do." She sighed too, patting him on the shoulder. "But you'll get there, Tracy. One day, you might want some company on some flight somewhere. Us clanless bats have to stick together, you know? Even if..." She looked away, her voice breaking. Just for a second. "Rose, huh? You take good care of her. Is it her? I dunno how earth pony names work."

"Me neither," he said. "Maybe I'll see you at the Echo Caverns one day? If you pass through Ponyville again, stop by and say hi."

She nodded, touching him briefly on the shoulder. "Work on your landings. Lots of tight quarters in the Echo Caverns." Then she took off, leaving only a high-pitched squeaking on the air behind her.
> Chapter 38
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maybe Tracy shouldn't have been surprised to see that Rose was already awake when he walked in, smelling of floral shampoo and laying out her breakfast. From the look of everything on the counter, it was going to be quite involved.

She jumped as he stepped inside, eyes widening in shock. "Y-you were..." She pointed with one hoof, then glanced back at the still-shut door to the human side. “You weren't asleep?"

"Adjusting is hard," he said, kicking the door shut behind him. He'd only been outside for a few hours, but even a few minutes of flight hit him with a powerful wave of exhaustion. Now that the immediate danger was over and he wasn't going to fall to his death, the adrenaline was fading rapidly. 

He stretched both wings, yawning and shaking himself out. At least now he could guess why the local bats acted the way they did. Sable was right about one thing, being up now was unnatural. Oh buck, I have plans all day. We're going on a date, then my flying lesson...

Would his wings still be burning by then?

While he'd been standing in a daze, he hadn't noticed Rose approaching. She sniffed at him once, then snatched up one of his legs. Shorter though she was, her strength was irresistible. Like pressing up against steel rebar. "What the buck happened to you, Tracy? Not copying your friends and wandering out into the wilderness on your own..."

"No." He wouldn't have let anyone else do it, but for Rose he just stood still and let her examine him. "I just planned on walking through Ponyville. That flying book was so boring, you can't even imagine. A few bats noticed me, and found out I couldn't fly, and..." He shook his head. "Well, I still don't think I can fly. But it could've gone worse."

Rose's expression became unreadable. She sniffed again, eyes narrowing. "Some bats, huh? You went off with a mare, alone, in the middle of the night?"

Uh oh. Tracy only had a few seconds to head this off. But where the animals of this world might have strange and immeasurable differences, jealousy was at least something he sort of understood.

"It was a whole family—older stallion and two adult children. I think the mare was probably interested in me, but she was disappointed. I told her I was already seeing someone."

Rose watched him for another second, looking at his other leg. After a few more seconds she let go, turning away from him. "Well, smell's right. We should put something on those legs. Doesn’t look serious, but you don't want an infection."

"Yeah. I was gonna spray them with liquid bandage, but... I don't actually know what that would do when I came back across. What do ponies do for medicine?"

Alcohol, as it turned out. It burned as Rose sponged out the shallow cuts with a damp cloth soaked in the stuff, but she refused to hear of anything other than treating him right away. If anything, she seemed to take special satisfaction in his pained gasps.

"This is why you take reputable flight classes at a Canterlot school, instead of running off with strange mares under the moonlight," she said, as soon as they'd finished cleaning out his wounds. She applied a goopy brown substance over both legs, which hardened almost to dried mud in a few seconds. At least it stopped burning.

"A licensed school has to follow safety standards. It won't let novice flyers hurt themselves."

"I realize that now." It's a small miracle I didn't fall into the river. He yawned again, with the same whole-body stretch that had come naturally last time. "I should've just stuck with her advice. A lesson was a mistake." 

Rose turned, whipping him with her tail. Not terribly hard, though the smell of her shampoo was almost overpowering for a second. A reminder, maybe, or a mark. Just how like animals are we, anyway? Do humans have this many strange behaviors?

"You finish cleaning up," Rose said, hurrying back into the kitchen. "I'll finish breakfast. Don't peel that poultice off, it'll break off when it's done."

"Right." He glanced into the kitchen, then winced again. This probably wasn't the right time to get picky with his food, but throwing up at the table wouldn't help either. "If you do omelets, no cheese in mine this time. Just veggies."

He didn't stay to see her face, just hurried up the stairs and back to his room. I can't ruin this before it even starts. They were dating, now. It was time to make that official, instead of wondering if Rose was hiding from him. If she regretted saying yes, she could've used finding me as her excuse. She didn't. That felt like it should be a good sign.

There was one thing for sure: Tracy wasn't taking any chances. Either he'd make this work, or he'd fail spectacularly, and leave without regrets that he hadn't committed.

So he marched right into his room, removed the cloth and books concealing the Everwake, and carefully drew out a single vial. The cork was small enough that he had to use his teeth to pry it off. Then he tilted the whole thing back, and drank in a single sip. It tasted like nothing he'd ever experienced, bending around his tongue like mineral oil, but sparking and hissing as it went down like the sourest of sour candy. 

The world seemed to slow around him, as though he'd been submerged in honey. The clopping of hooves outside slowed to a crawl, voices pitched downward, and the crackling from the stove faded to a few seconds of occasional clicks and hisses. He alone was able to move, staring out at a strange, half-frozen world.

He burped loudly, expelling a cloud of faint gold sparks. They faded after a second, and the slow sensation passed right along with his tiredness. Tracy's vision returned to sharp focus. Suddenly the day's assignments all came rushing back to him—his flying lesson that night, getting lunch in Canterlot with Rose. His last few hours were only a dream by comparison.

Tracy rinsed off quickly, a task made easier by his choice not to wear anything during his walk. He corrected that decision, picking what he guessed would've translated to a semi-formal set of slacks and shirt. The kind of thing he expected would be worn to a casual date. He decided against cologne, if only because he wasn't sure what it would do to a horse's sense of smell.

By the time he made his way back downstairs, he looked and felt like a new pony. Only the persistent soreness between his wings and the bit of slime still clinging to his legs was any reminder of his evening trip.

"When are we going to Canterlot?" he asked, as soon as they'd finished breakfast. He couldn't risk Rose slipping out again, as she might want to. But she hadn't gone off to the stand while he was in the shower, so that was something.

"Two. I have to help with the stand until then. Sisters are covering at night, but that means I have to do some time in the afternoon." 

He nodded, and nearly asked about what had been bothering him. But no, this probably wasn't his best chance to get a straight answer. He could wait a little longer. "Guess I'll be here. See how much more of this I can get through before class tonight."

"Now you had a head start," she said flatly. "Maybe that crash will prepare you for the real thing."

Maybe it already had. Tracy had been terrified of Giselle's threats of shoving him off a cliff. But the closer it came, the more he found himself rehearsing his conversation with Rose. What was falling off a cliff compared to screwing up a relationship before it even started?

The next few hours passed in a blur. He cleaned up after breakfast so Rose could head to work, then skimmed the book as rapidly as he could. Despite his disdain for the forgettable writing, much of the illustrations were familiar to him now. The basic stances and positions Sable had explained were in here, with pages and pages of explanation and the purpose of each one.

Now that it was more than vague theory, Tracy could actually understand the exercise routine it suggested. Maybe if he asked nicely they'd let him keep the book for a few more weeks. He could scan a few of the most helpful pages.

As the hour of their train approached, Tracy found himself glancing back at the clock more and more. Would Rose need time to get ready? How much time did a pony take for something like this?

He couldn't keep waiting forever, though. Eventually departure was so close that Tracy could only tuck the book away and hurry off to the train station.

Am I seriously going to get ghosted in another universe? At least he would have a story to share with his friends, the ones who weren't in Equestria themselves.

But no—Rose was there waiting for him, pacing a nervous circle into the ground right in front of the station. "Cutting it a little close, aren't you?"

You could've told me we were meeting here. The words caught in his throat, and for a few seconds he just stared, slack-jawed. 

Rose hadn't just been at work. Her mane was styled in a dozen complex layers of red, each one a different shade. Her tail was braided with bits of semi-precious stones, complex enough to draw the eye and much wider and shorter than usual. 

She wore nothing more than she had during their previous trips, which meant a light satchel for bits and whatever else it was that mares carried when they went outside.

His words turned into an imperceptible mumble. He looked away, closing both his wings. I totally meant to do that. 






Had there ever been a time when he hadn't noticed how pretty Rose was? Granted, not wearing anything did give an advantage. Careful staring, Tracy. She can do it too. 

He followed her aboard the Canterlot Express, now determined to look anywhere except the mare in front of him. They took their usual seats in the back, and soon enough they were on their way.

"So, uh... you look good," he stammered, recollecting his confidence as best he could. It wasn't easy. "You don't normally..."

She flipped a few stray strands of mane from her face, grinning at him. "No, I don't. I spend three days a week foraging for flowers and rare seeds. Something like this wouldn't last an hour in the Everfree."

He nodded awkwardly, wondering what all those sparkles and semi-precious stones would look like if they crossed to his side. After she put something on, obviously. 

"Really? We should... do that together sometime." He watched her closely, looking for any sign he'd said something he shouldn't. "I don't mind camping. Spent my whole childhood out in nature. Mostly it was cactus and sagebrush, but... I'm sure Equestria is just as interesting. Honestly, I like the green on your side better.” And the red.

"I've never met a bat who cared much about it," she said. "Spelunking, sure. But you've got the tools for it. Only one of us can see their way around in the dark. And, you know, fly."

"Neither of us can..." He'd almost said “either”, but he stopped himself. There was nothing more than the moon out last night, and he'd been able to see just fine. Better than fine, really. "Fly," he finished lamely. "But honestly caves sound unsafe. We have caves at home too, but most of them are mines. I grew up hearing horror stories about all the tourists and stupid teenagers who wandered in and never came out again. Camping sounds more fun."

"I've been looking for an excuse to go out to the Peaks of Peril," she said, her tone getting more excited with each word. "They're supposed to still have foal's-breath flowers up there. My sisters won't go—too afraid of Kirin. But you're not afraid, are you?"

"Nope," he answered, grinning stupidly back. "I don't even know what that is." Then he stopped, finally seeming to recognize the name. “Hold on, what did you say they were called?”
> Chapter 39
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The restaurant was at once as familiar to Tracy as it was entirely alien. Places like this existed on Earth, where visitors spent more money than he made in a month to indulge in things made in countries he couldn't pronounce. Of course none of them were in Ely, though Vegas had its share.

The Bridle Path was perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking a lower level of the city, with wide widows that took up almost the entire wall and a live pianist filling the restaurant with soft music. Like many in Canterlot she was a unicorn, using the glow of her horn to play an instrument with keys too small to press with a hoof.

He stumbled once on the way to their table, wiping at his face with a wing. They were good for something other than flying after all.

"Something wrong?" Rose slowed, looking back at him. "Are you..."

There were others in the restaurant, just a few small groups like theirs tucked away into the corners. Along with the staff, who watched him with the same concern.

"N-no." He choked it back, putting on a smile for the waiter as they ordered. He couldn't even pronounce anything on the menu, so he just asked for a recommendation, ordering it without question.

"What is it?" Rose asked again as soon as they were alone. "Is it all the unicorns? They're not all bad, just like not every earth pony is a farmer. It's just dumb stereotypes left over from a meaner time."

"Nothing like that," he chuckled, glancing back across the restaurant. "It's stupid, and I'll get over it." You haven't in two years.

"Tell me," Rose urged. "What is it—if we're going to be together, then we have to be honest. It can't be worse than sneaking off in the middle of the night."

"I wasn't sneaking!" But she was right, put that way it did seem absurd. He cleared his throat, avoiding her eyes. "Alright, I'll tell you. But then you have to answer one of my questions."

She hesitated, then nodded. "Fine, Tracy. I don't have any secrets."

"It's not. When I was growing up... my mother taught us all to play piano. I hated it, but my sister was really good. She used to get sheet music from the latest Broadway plays, and fill up the house with it. I..." He wiped his eyes on a napkin, and didn't speak again until he was sure his voice wouldn't crack. "I stayed away from it since the crash. Makes every studying playlist on Spotify completely unlistenable. But... I said it was silly."

Rose didn't laugh. She reached across the table, resting one hoof on his. "I don't know what all that means... but I know what you feel. Sometimes when I'm closing up at the flower stand, Daisy or Lily will come in without saying anything. It's like my parents are still working. I spend all day around the shelves my dad built, I have to dig through Mom's notes looking for suppliers."

"That must hurt," he whispered. "You can't run away, or the thing they built dies because of you."

She shrugged. "Sometimes it does. But more often, it helps. The only thing they loved more than the flower stand was us. Being part of that is good."

Of all the people I could've spent the last few months with, it's someone who lost her family too. There was a little envy there—what Tracy wouldn't give for Robin to still be alive. Instead, he could only be grateful Rose hadn't lost her sisters as well as her parents. He wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.

They fell silent for a time, as their meals finally arrived. They were small portions, which some part of him had been expecting too. His was something he could only vaguely describe as a meat pie, with a savory smell that made him take every bite slowly. "I can see why you wanted to come here," he said, relieved that she'd finally let the subject rest. The piano hadn't stopped, but he could handle it. Now that he was expecting the pain, he could resist it. "This is fantastic."

He looked like an awkward, clumsy fool eating it, compared to the unicorn patrons with their magical levitation. Hadn't Marshall been a unicorn? Lucky. Except that he'd never learned to use it, just like Tracy had almost not learned to fly.

"Yeah," Rose agreed. She said nothing about how silly he looked. Maybe she didn't care. "Wish we could've come here more often, but the prices are... as outrageous as you think they are. Big city unicorns whose families have run Equestria for generations—the people who serve them eat here. It seems frivolous to spend so many bits on food, but... every now and then. For special occasions."

He felt a fresh wave of guilt at the thought. He knew full well how desperate her financial situation could be. He'd walked that edge of collapse himself, only months before. "You've been hiding," he said. Quietly—not confrontationally, he hoped. 

"I've never had a girlfriend I never got to see before. Do you want to... change your mind? Is that what this was?"

"No!" she snapped, loud enough that a few ponies turned to look. They sniffed, then turned up their noses. Tracy could make out some impolite muttering about unsophisticated ponies. But he couldn't care less. Let them talk.

"I've been with bats before," she continued. "So I'm not new to your schedules. Sometimes ponies adapt to be up at night, so they can be together. But I've never been able to do that, thanks to the flower stand. I just assumed if you didn't visit me at the shop, that you... didn't want to be together."

He winced. Of course it would be something like that. Someone who wants to call things off doesn't leave flower arrangements at home and make breakfast before you're even there.

He nodded slowly. "I want to do this right. But I'm new at being a pony. I'm learning as fast as I can, but it's a process. Where I come from, dating someone means spending time with them. It means sharing their interests. The last two times, it ended with moving in together... at her place, since I didn't have one anymore. It does mean all those same things in Equestria, doesn't it?"

Rose laughed weakly. "You're already making progress, Tracy. You're moved in."

This is gonna be so weird if we start sharing a bedroom. It isn't like I'll be able to sleep when she does most of the time, I'll be at work. But just thinking about that made his ears press flat in embarrassment. Tracy felt like a teenager all over again. A lifetime of trial and error to reach some kind of understanding of the opposite sex was all out the window. Much seemed to translate, but not all.

"I guess that's what it means," Rose continued. "Guess we... were kinda already doing it. You've been helping with the flower stand, and I'm here to help you fly."

He shook his head, making a brief, frustrated squeak. Where had that come from? Rose giggled, and he went on, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. "It's a start. But it's not with you, it's for you. I want to be with you. If that means giving up a little sleep, then that's what it takes." And some questionable potion that certainly won't come back to bite me later.

"I'll plan for camping," Rose said. "Nightmare Night is coming up, we could celebrate that together. All the bats I've dated loved Nightmare Night."

"Yes," he said. "Me too. Assuming that's... what I think it is. Also, I believe our next date will be on my side. You promised we'd go after Canterlot." 

She grumbled unhappily, nodding. "Not sure... I'll be much use over there. I've never been an adventurer. I still work at my parents' flower shop, all these years later. You're the one who came to another world and braved all the magical dangers along the way."

I'm the brave one? He hadn't felt very brave at first, hiding in his room and barely talking to anyone. Equestria had been passing him by then. But now... now maybe he was a little braver. He'd asked her out. He was bold enough to learn to fly, and to defend his friends in court. Maybe I can be brave.

"It's not so hard," he finally said. "Just make sure you're wearing lots of clothes when you cross over. On our end, they're... mandatory."

He blushed again, trying desperately to silence his own imagination's projection of that mistake. The appearances of ponies didn't translate in any way he could describe, yet it made the same visceral, physical sense.

"That seems inconvenient," Rose muttered, folding her hooves in dissatisfaction. That displeasure only grew when their bill arrived a few moments later, and she left a pile of bits on the tray. "Wouldn't they get in the way? Being overdressed, I mean. So much more work to clean, so much more expensive to have them for every occasion..."

He shrugged, rising with her to leave the restaurant. Instead of following her, Tracy settled in beside her, close enough to touch. He could only guess whether this was the kind of thing he was even supposed to do for a pony he was dating. But Rose didn’t stop him, and he didn't particularly want to move away again. Her body felt cool compared to his own, with a much slower, plodding heartbeat.

Maybe that was just another bias. She smelled almost as nervous as he felt.

"We take them off when they're in the way," he said, as they left the shop behind. It was still too early for flying lessons, though.

They didn't head for the top of Canterlot and the school. Instead they approached the palace, but not any part of it he'd seen before. There was a much smaller gate down here on the lower levels, one that opened to another section of its spacious garden. 

"Where are we going?" he asked, glancing curiously around at the overgrown statues, and the dry, empty fountains. Canterlot had never seemed like a particularly bustling city, but with tall grass and plenty of leafy hedges, even that noise faded to a distant hum.

"Not many ponies come down here," she answered, leading him up the steps to a vine-covered gazebo. Ancient markings covered the walls, adorning the busts of stuffy-looking ponies watching them from all sides. "I thought we might want a little privacy before your lesson. Maybe you wanted to ask for some help... reviewing. Or something."

She reached one hoof down beside him, holding the book up. How she could do that with a hoof, Tracy couldn't guess. Lots of practice.

He lowered one wing, brushing the book aside so it clattered to the ancient stone floor. He lowered his head towards her, frozen for a second in the shadowy twilight. "How about... Or something?"

He kissed her. It was hardly the most private setting—deserted though it seemed, other ponies might come upon them here at any moment. He was new, clumsy in a body he still didn't fully understand. But Tracy intended more than a chaste peck on the cheek.

Some things didn't need instruction manuals.




> Chapter 40
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy was glad they had somewhere else to go, and nowhere too private to hide in. As frustrating as these last few months had been, he wasn't quite ready for anything too extreme, and it felt like Rose probably wasn't either. It wasn't like he needed much time to get to know someone he'd already been living with for months, but...

Still, it was a good thing when a distant bell finally distracted him from Rose long enough to realize he was about to be late.

They hurried across Canterlot after that, climbing between ramps and spiral staircases. Eventually Tracy hurried through the doors of the flight school, mane disheveled and completely out of breath. Instead of taking up one of the first chairs in the room, he was relegated to the back. But that was probably for the best.

Tracy had been half-expecting them to leave the classroom immediately and start jumping off cliffs, at least from the way Giselle spoke last time. But no—their entire first hour was review, mostly of techniques that he clearly couldn't employ, given they relied on control of specific feathers to change direction, or slow down, or stop. 

But that was a little longer for the review he hadn't had a chance to make, skimming through the rest of the book until he got to the section on landings. Might as well start with what he knew the least.

Too bad I can't ask Sable about some of this stuff. She could probably summarize these chapters in a few words. So far he'd found nothing inconsistent between the advice he received and the contents of the book, though of course one had been presented to him in a far more memorable manner.

Eventually the review was done, and Giselle actually picked up the chalk, sketching a simple diagram in front of them. "This is your first jump. It's off High Horse peak, a short walk from here. It's half a kilometer to the lower city below." Instead of drawing the tops of buildings, or angry spikes ready to catch the unwary, she sketched a cartoonish, fluffy cloud. 

"None of you would be in my class if you were comfortable with this, so I want to make this clear. At the bottom of our jump-arena is five meters solid of the densest cloudbank Cloudsdale can manufacture. I've heard rumors it's thick enough to catch an earth pony, though I do not invite any to try it. But each of you—no matter how much you feel like your wings are made of lead, you still belong in the sky. Cloudwalking does not require conscious effort. If you fail to glide and fall, you'll sink, and the ground-crew will dig you out, unharmed. 

"Worst injury we ever had on the first jump came from somepony who tried to change their mind halfway through, and ended up scraping along the cliffside all the way down."

A series of winces and pained mutters echoed through the room at her words. Tracy could imagine the bloody smear something like that must've left.

"That's why the jump works the way it does. Walk to the end of the plank, away from the cliff, and glide. If you move in a straight line, you'll coast all the way to our sister office on the south side. If you fall, you get the march of shame back up here. About half of you will fail your first time. It's the ones who go that second and third time who graduate."

"We'll do it!" exclaimed the youngest student, a filly in the front row. "We're ready to fly, Miss Giselle!"

"We'll see." She laughed, then gestured for the door. "We'll go by row. Can't have you jumping at the same time, or you'll smack into each other. That... goes as bad as you think it does. First row, up. Stairs. Everyone else, move up and make room. Ponies who fail will be back. Ponies who fly, lesson's over for the day. Good luck."

So it began. Tracy watched the first wave go, feeling a growing gnaw in the pit of his stomach. Now he'd done this before, it was true—but he also had coasted down a hill, not jumped off a cliff. There wasn't just grass and rocks if he went off course. What if he crashed through a window, or got skewered on a spire?

After the first group, Giselle returned to class, leading away the next. It took longer than he'd expected, and being in the back of the class, Tracy had plenty of time to stew with his fear.

Then the first wave of ponies came back from their failed jumps. Well, one did. The orange filly, who had been so excited earlier, slunk back inside. Her tail dragged, her ears were pressed flat, and she barely seemed to see the room around her. None of the other students were here.





Maybe he should've just let her sulk. But he couldn't help himself. "How was it?"

She looked up, eyes wide and watery. "Are you saying I—" Then she stopped, finally seeing his face. "Oh. Sorry. Not good."

What have you been through, kid? He shuffled back a few places in line, so that he was now last—only in front of her. The other students just moved up, visible impatience growing. 

"The way I see it, you're ahead of the rest of us," he muttered. "You're the youngest one here. The rest of us have been stuck on the ground longer than you've been alive."

I think. I still don't actually know how old ponies get. For all he knew they aged like horses, and the people in front of him would be lucky to see forty. Would that mean Rose was only a few years old? I know what I'm asking her when this is over.

The kid looked up, expression hardening. "You're trying to make me feel better. But it won't work. You ponies never cared about flying. But I've been trying for years now. Eight or... nine or... as long as I can remember. Never could."

Tracy breathed a silent sigh of relief, though her actual words were filled with disappointment and pain. You're a young teenager, thank God.

But the young pony was watching him now, enough to puff out her chest and spread her wings in defiance. "What? Are you gonna make fun of me after all?"

"No, sorry." Tracy took a few nervous steps back, looking away from her. "I can't imagine what that's like." He eyed her wings, which looked short and stubby even for a younger pony. More like something from a hummingbird than the songbird wings more typical to ponies he'd seen. It wasn't an age thing either—he'd seen ponies much smaller than this one flying all over Ponyville. 

Clearly he'd stepped on something far more complex than he understood. Should've just kept my stupid mouth shut. "Good luck, uh..." He trailed off awkwardly. "I'll be rooting for you."

"Scootaloo," she muttered. "You too."

Finally Giselle returned, leading his group away. They passed more returning failures in the hall, a much larger crowd this time. Despite her worries, Scootaloo wasn't the only one who had trouble.

Tracy caught one look at Rose in the waiting room, waving weakly to her before crossing out to the back of the school.

Everything was basically as Giselle had said it was, with a railing positioned precariously over a sheer, dramatic drop. The city's lowest, sprawling level was far below, with streets and carts and power lines. What it was supposed to do, Tracy couldn’t be sure—but there was a patch of thick cloud directly below, kept unnaturally square by powers beyond his imagination.

It must not be the same stuff, even if it looks like clouds. That filly looked like she really fell, even if it was just her pride that was injured.

"You, bat." Giselle approached with heavy, deliberate steps. There were other ponies orchestrating the jump—a pair of pegasus ponies who hovered in the air beside a vertical plank maybe five meters long.

"Saw you slink to the back of the class today. I hope you did your reading because you're not getting out of this if you didn't. Falls build character, make you better at doing your homework next week."

She was so huge. If she'd been standing on her hind legs, maybe even as big as his friends looked on the wrong side of the door. Only with two razor sharp claws and a beak that could tear out his throat without effort.

"What, swallow a bug?" Those gold eyes narrowed. "Look at that, only one jump left ahead of you. Say your last prayers to the moon if you need to."

"I..." He glanced over the railing, his limbs going stiff. "Oh god. That's... that's so far."

"I was joking about the prayers, they won't help." Giselle wrapped one wing over his shoulder, squeezing him with surprising warmth. "It's height, isn't it? All that time in caves has you spoiled. Makes you think flying is just walking in the air."

He opened his mouth to protest, but couldn't manage anything more than a frightened grunt. Apparently that was enough confirmation for her. 

"I can't tell you what it's like to fly with those wings. I can't even tell pegasus ponies, tell you the truth. It's all theory and rehearsing what pegasus trainers have taught me. But here's one piece of advice that every griffon hatched learns: watch your target. If you look down, that's where you'll go."

She walked with him, up to the gate. A pegasus stallion wobbled out onto the edge of the platform, spread his wings, then sunk like a stone, screaming as he fell.

Tracy gulped, and his legs began to shake. He watched the fall, as the pegasus struck into the cloud with an explosion of fluffy white.

Moments later, and he crawled out onto a... platform, made of clouds.

"I've been gliding before," Tracy whispered, mostly to himself. "I can do this. It's just... gliding."

"That's the spirit!" Giselle pulled the gate open with a claw, shoving him out onto the platform. "Jump quick, fly straight. Longer you're out on the platform, the harder it is. Just spread your wings and take a running start. You'll thank me."

Tracy nodded, though he didn't thank her as the gate shut behind him, smacking into his rump. He yanked his tail free, taking a few nervous steps forward. This was nothing like what Sable had done. He could see ponies far, far below, like toys. Well, more like toys than they usually looked.

Nothing for it. Tracy spread both wings as Sable had taught him, taking a few nervous steps forward. It wasn't a run, but he did speed up as he approached the edge.

A hovering pegasus mare nodded to him, encouraging. "Go on, bat! Straight out. It's a kilometer glide, that's all."

He sped up, driven by fear and adrenaline. The edge of the plank was three meters away, then two. Both wings were rigid, ready to glide as he'd already done. Besides, it wasn't like he would get hurt even if he fell, right? If the kid could fall, he could fall.

Then he got to the edge of the plank, and the uninterrupted view of the city below hit him. Tracy screamed in protest, legs locking up in a desperate, futile attempt to stop.

There just wasn't enough of the polished metal, not enough resistance from his hooves. He slid right over the edge and out into open air.

Both wings were already open, held rigidly in place—but he was tilted down. What might've made for a comfortable glide when he held his body horizontally took him into a twisting, accelerating dive.





Tracy began to accelerate, the cliffside blurring by faster and faster. He screamed, kicking out with all four legs in futile resistance. It did him no good. 

"Pull up!" somepony yelled. It was the same white and blue pegasus from before, diving after him with both forelegs reaching out. "Pull up! Spread your wings!"

He did, but the stress against untrained muscles was just too much. They bent back all the way, sending him tumbling to the side. Tracy saw a blur of tiled rooftops rushing to meet him, then nothing.
> Chapter 41
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Living in Ponyville had given Rose plenty of bad days. But of all her most frightening experiences, watching orderlies haul Tracy to the hospital was certainly on the list. If there was one mercy, it was that she hadn't known precisely when he was going to jump, so she hadn't been close enough to see the fall.

She watched nervously as doctors flowed in and out of Tracy's room, listening for any hint of what might be happening. Whenever she asked, the responses did little to reassure her.

"Flying ponies always crash soft," and "we're having a little trouble reviving him, but there's no sign of serious trauma" did not make her feel better. This is my fault. I'm the one who talked him into these lessons. He's not from here, he's not meant to fly.

From what the instructor explained, the problem was that Tracy had flown a little too well.

"The course was carefully marked, with plenty of clearance. We've never had someone who could fly enough to leave but couldn't get themselves somewhere safe to land. With as little reading as he did, I expected he would fall. That would've been safer for all involved."

She had nothing to say to that. Rose didn't trust herself to talk to any of the flight school staff without saying some extremely unfriendly things. Every promise that they would cover all Tracy's expenses, as well as offering him the rest of his training with a personal instructor—what would that matter if he ended up crippled from his experience?

"Just tell me his injuries," she asked one of the doctors, after cornering her outside the room. "Nopony put up a chart."

She shifted nervously, clipboard glowing in unicorn magic. "I'm, uh... What's your relation to the patient? There are rules about privacy—"

"I'm his partner," she snapped. "Tell me what happened." He doesn't have family anymore. I'm the only pony who even knows he's here.

"Well..." She straightened, adjusting a pair of thick glasses on her snout. "There was a clean fracture in the right foreleg. No complications, cast is in place. More troubling are the burns. He bridged a set of electrical lines, rather... dramatically, it appears. Given his cutie mark and the lack of any identification, that's what we put on the..."

She turned, exposing the top of the chart, and the name "Spark Gap" listed there, before quickly flipping it back around. "First responder said we were dealing with one of the palace's own high-voltage terminals, and the burns should've been far more severe. Frankly, he's lucky to be alive."

"He's not... Is there any permanent damage?" Rose asked. "Didn't tear his wings, or..."

"No, nothing like that." The doctor waved a dismissive hoof. "None of his burns were serious, though he might think differently when he wakes up. But that's... the other part of the problem. There's no head trauma we can find, but he hasn't responded to revival spells. A specialist should be here tomorrow morning."

"I need to see him," Rose said, moving to get around her. "Even if he's not awake."

For a second it looked like the doctor would refuse her—then she shrugged. "Alright, miss. So long as you don't interfere with any of the nurses, that shouldn't be an issue. Just don't expect to get much out of him."

Tracy was the pony patient in the hospital room, though just as the nurse had said, the board at the foot of his bed listed him as "Spark Gap."

He didn't look nearly as bad as the nightmare she had imagined. His coat was shaved away in places, to make room for burn poultices. His right foreleg was in a cast, suspended above the bed by straps. But other than that, he looked intact. His wings were folded, and if anything his face was comfortable.

A nurse moved past Rose, nodding once but not giving her trouble. She'd seen rose waiting outside this room for the last several hours. She knew who she was. "This is my fault," Rose whispered, as soon as she was alone. "I shouldn't have pressured you to be more of a pony."

She laughed to herself, though the sound was spiteful and bitter. "I can't believe I thought you were here to invade. Crashing into buildings, puking up breakfast..." Tracy had never been a threat to Equestria. Equestria was a threat to him.

"There were bugs in the pancakes. It's not my fault."

Rose spun, staring down at the hospital bed with mouth agape. The bat had one eye open now, watching her. It was like somepony had flipped a switch. "How the buck are you awake now?" She jerked over to the bed, wrapping one foreleg around him in the closest hug she could manage. She kissed him—or tried, but some of the bandages were on his face. 

"Careful!" He didn't exactly have the strength to scream at her, though the pain in his voice was obvious. 

"Sorry." She retreated a few steps, ears flattening. "They couldn't revive you, Tracy. I thought... I thought you might've been electrocuted." She couldn’t bring herself to say what she was actually thinking. I didn't know if you would ever wake up.

He twitched, glancing down at himself. The restraints held him firmly in place, so he couldn't do more than wiggle slightly to either side. "Feels... like I was. Everything hurts. Leg worst of all. Do you people have painkillers?"

"Yes. Hold on, I'll get the nurse." 

She did, though obviously it wasn't so simple. Her report that the patient was awake and needing help caused a flurry of activity, as a fresh wave of doctors poured in. Rose watched from the back of the room as they assaulted Tracy with a barrage of tests. At least none of them tried to send her away this time.

While they worked, Rose ran outside to scavenge a meal with a street-vendor, and by the time she got back the worst was over, and Tracy had a meal resting in front of him, with a smell that was about as appetizing as Changeling slime. "You didn't tell them my name?" he asked, glaring at her as she slipped in. "Did you forget how to pronounce it again?"

"No, but I think they did. Doesn't matter, flight school is taking care of everything." She settled beside the bed, touching his shoulder with one hoof. "I'm sorry, Tracy. I shouldn't have pressured you."

Tracy took an unsteady bite from the bowl. It looked like oatmeal, though it didn't smell much like it. He winced, then pushed it away. "I'm not sorry. I wanted to be here, Rose. I wanted to fly. I still do." He glanced up at his leg, groaning weakly. "Maybe that makes me sound insane. I feel a little insane, thinking about that cliff. You're right that I'm not built for this. But..."

His wings twitched, half-opening at the thought. "I was so close... could almost taste it. I wish we had jumped off something shorter. I could fall a few times, figure things out more that way."

I was wrong. He's not completely alien—there's bat in there. It was just a stereotype, Rose knew that intellectually. But every bat she'd ever known had the same reckless bravery. It was probably the exact thing that got them into such trouble with the whole Lunar Rebellion thing.

It was also incredibly attractive. "You can go back to the school when that leg heals. With the spells they put on you, that should be under a month. At least they're offering you the rest of your classes free of charge?"

He chuckled. "I see ponies have invented liability mitigation. But I don't really blame them, I'm the one who—" He trailed off abruptly, jerking in bed. He winced, clutching at his damaged leg. "Dammit... Rose, the doctors say I won't be able to leave for another two days. I need you to talk to them—I can't miss work."

Now it was her turn to glare. Rose leaned down over him, inches from his face. She wanted to kiss him again, but she didn't. Not when he was saying such stupid things. "I know how much your work means to you, Tracy. But don't you think that healing properly might be a little more important? Are they really going to be upset when you tell them about your accident?"

He hesitated, slumping back against the pillows. "I guess you're right. They won't like it, but I think Janet will understand. I'll need to get my doctor to sign something I can bring back. And..." It was his turn to look embarrassed, fluffy ears twitching under the bandages. "If you're going back to Ponyville, could you do something for me? I need you to call my boss and tell her what happened."

Rose opened her mouth to agree, even if she wasn't exactly sure what “call” meant. She could yell about as loud as anypony she knew, but not loud enough to cross universes.

"Wait. We need to come up with a lie. Janet doesn't know there's another world, she doesn't know I'm a horse, and she certainly doesn't know that I was taking flying lessons on the weekends. But there's some stuff you could tell her. You can say we went... hiking. And that I fell. Broke my arm and got torn up on the way down, but I'll be into work..." 

He glanced at one hoof, as though he were going to do something with it, then sighed in frustration. "I could still go to work with one arm. But how well can ponies get around with a leg in a cast? Will I be able to walk?"

"Not well," she answered. "If you're smart, you'll use a wheelchair for the first week or two. Bats like you have hollow bones, Tracy. They need to heal exactly right, or they'll be weaker for the rest of your life."

"I only have hollow bones half the time..." he muttered, but he didn't put up much of a fight. 

Rose stayed the night, and found the experience as awful as she remembered. She never had as much time alone with Tracy as she would've wanted—but considering his condition, that was probably for the best.

She would've stayed all of Sunday too—certainly her guilt was strong enough. But Tracy was positively terrified about his job, and her sisters would be equally afraid for her. "I'll be here Monday night when you're released," she promised. "We'll take the Ponyville Express straight back."

He nodded, pushing a scrap of paper towards her. "I wrote everything down I told you about my phone. Remember—"

"Nothing about Equestria, nothing about flying, nothing about you being a bat," Rose recited, rolling her eyes. "I'll remember. But I think you'd probably be happier if you were more honest. It's one of the Elements of Harmony you know."

"No, I didn't," he said, with total sincerity. "I have no idea what that is. But I'm trusting you, Rose. If I lose this job, I can't pay Discord. You know what that means better than anyone."

Oh. Suddenly Tracy's near terror at the suggestion of anything that put his job into question made much more sense. There were few ponies in Equestria who could understand as well as Rose could. She took the sheet of paper reverently, tucking it away into her saddlebags. "I'll do it exactly how you told me. Not a word otherwise."

Then she kissed him—lighter this time, without any danger of worsening his wounds. Impossibly, Tracy didn't blame her. This relationship of theirs could still work. If we can stay together after all this, we'll make it through anything.
> Chapter 42
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite her fears, Rose found "calling" work to be far less of a big deal than she would've thought. She'd seen Tracy play with that slab of metal and glass he called a "phone" plenty of times, and knew where he kept it. 

As he had suggested, getting it to listen to her required she use a stylus in her mouth, tapping and scrolling before she finally found the place he had suggested. 





Daisy and Lily would have nightmares about trying to figure this out, she thought. She tapped the “speaker” button, and it started to ring. Tracy always says there's no magic on his side, but it doesn't seem like that's true. Talking to ponies far away instead of just sending them letters or telegrams seems pretty magical to me. 

Maybe it was just a question of attitude—they didn't want to call it magic, so they made up another name. But it was the same thing really.

There was a click, then a voice on the other end. A female voice, sounding young enough that Rose might've been worried. Might have, if it wasn't for how harsh and unfriendly she sounded. "Tracy? Since when do you call?"

Rose glanced over Tracy's notes one last time, then cleared her throat. "Uh... hi! My name is Roseluck, I'm Tracy's m—girlfriend."

"Okay," said the voice, tone entirely unchanged. "He never mentioned you before. But I guess he doesn't really talk about his home life at all. I assume he wanted you to call?"

"Yeah." She went through the lie they'd rehearsed as best she could. Rose didn't feel so bad about it, not when the important details were true. She was just translating the specifics so they would make sense to the creatures in the other universe, that was all. She didn't have to lie about the fear she felt at the time, or how seriously Tracy was hurt.

Despite her initial response, Janet became far warmer by the end of the conversation. "You let Tracy know I'll make sure everything's worked out with HR for the next week," she said. "Apex wants him to take the time he needs to come back healthy. Remind him that we're going into crunch next week for the Emmerson project, he'll know what that means."

"Sure." Rose scribbled that down, though she was fairly certain she'd completely botched the spelling. She spat out the pencil. "Thanks so much, Janet. You were one of the first things he thought of when he woke up—he's been stressed like you wouldn't believe over failing you."

The alien made a grunting sound that wasn't quite a word, one that Rose couldn't quite parse. Was it frustration, relief, confusion? "Tracy's lucky to have you. You should come with him to one of the company parties, meet everyone. Family's always invited."

The machine made a noise, the screen flashed, and the sound stopped.

Rose stared at it for a few more seconds, in case it started doing things again. But it didn't, and a few moments later she felt comfortable returning it to Tracy's desk. She's a little mean, but she does seem to care about him. Not the worst pony to work for.

Come to think of it, Rose didn't actually know what Tracy did with “Apex”. He spoke about himself so rarely that Rose sometimes forgot he had another life. Maybe I should go with him to a company party. He's become a part of my life, I should be more a part of his.

Rose took full advantage of the time alone to clean up the whole house, including Tracy's room. He wasn't the messiest stallion she'd ever lived with, but there was something about bats. He didn't buck the trend in terms of their organization strategy of choice: piles.

Her reunion with her own family was far less dramatic than the one with Tracy himself. "You don't have to make up a story," Daisy said, as soon as she finished explaining everything. "We get it. You found somewhere romantic up in Canterlot, maybe that... cavern retreat? Your bat would like that. You already live together, what's there to be embarrassed about?"

"We weren't—" It was a stupid thing to be embarrassed about. But mostly she was indignant. "You're going to feel awful when you see him, Daisy. He'd been so electrocuted that the nurses started calling him after it. I don't even know how long it will be before he can walk."

On this side. On the other, he only had two legs, and neither one had been damaged. But that was too much for them.

The stand wasn't particularly busy, but even so she could feel the pressure of eyes from around them. Lily leaned out from the back, watching closely. "You should've gone to the retreat. Don't you like caves? It would've been romantic."

"And expensive," she finished, holding up a hoof and glaring at Daisy. "We were planning on going camping in a week or two, off to the Peaks of Peril. He was willing to go with me. But... guess we'll have to wait for next month. Half the fun of camping is the hike out, and he'll still be hobbling around in a week."

"Good." Daisy patted her on the shoulder. "Please, please go. We can tell how you're getting, Rose. You need some attention. You aren't the kind of mare who can live alone and be happy."

Her face grew redder, but she didn't argue. Daisy wasn't wrong. She wasn't the one who had to live with an attractive bat who spent half his time dressed like he was some Canterlot dandy, while flying face first into danger whenever it flew his way. Even thinking he was an alien invader hadn't made it easier.

"The caverns aren't worth it," she said, as though Daisy hadn't said anything. "But we'll figure something out. I wish he hadn't been hurt so badly. Our first date went... really well."

She had to tell them, of course, in great detail. It would've given them something to talk about for the entire shift, if there hadn't been so many other distractions to talk about.

"Seems like you had a good time," Lily said, when she was finally finished gushing about it all. "Too bad about the ending. You should make the next one less dramatic."

"I kinda promised I'd do the next one in his world," she admitted, tensing as she said it. She wasn't wrong, either.

"That sounds dangerous," Daisy said, after settling a fresh display onto the counter beside them. "You, of all ponies? Magic and danger and faraway lands? You sure that's what you want?"

Yes. But how could she explain that? "It's the one thing I feel like I'm missing," she said. "With the others, I could see how they acted in their clan. But Tracy's like us—he doesn't have a family. So I want to see what he's like when he's himself."

Lily nodded. "That sounds smart. Want to know that he's really the pony you think he is. Didn't you say ponies are strange over there? You'd have to be like them."

She nodded. That was surprisingly insightful for Lily. Maybe she was listening better than Rose gave her credit for. "Weird, yeah. They're two-legged like minotaurs, stretched out and thin. I can show you pictures if you want, he's got some in his room."

"I want to see," Daisy said. "Not that I'm telling you what to do with your life, big sister. You're grown, and... honestly, picking a bat who can't fly away on you might be the smartest choice you ever made. Still not sold on his ideas for selling flowers, but... guess I shouldn't be arguing with success. You think it's worth sticking with, so I believe you."

The shift was uneventful after that. Nightmare Night wasn't quite close enough to bring in the demand yet, so having a pony at the front of the stall was probably more than they needed. But what we really need is a store, not a stall. Somewhere with enough room for a real fridge, and plenty of growing space.

Their parents had planned and scrimped and saved for that goal exactly, but all those bits had melted into the simpler mission of just surviving after the invasion. 

We've just about paid off all the loans. I wonder if anyone would give us a lease on one of the empty buildings around Ponyville. That goal had not gotten easier as their resident librarian rose in prominence in Equestria. She took the town—and its real-estate prices—up with her.

She tried to bring it up with her sisters, but Lily didn't really have the mind for long-term thinking, and Daisy just agreed with anything Rose thought.

"But think about it. If we had our own store, like... out near the edge of town, by the train station. We'd get all the hoof traffic passing by the front, and we'd have the space to grow more of our own stock. That would mean better margins, since we wouldn't have to import. More free time too, since we wouldn't need to forage nearly as much. We could keep just one pony in the store on slow days, and all be there only when there are big holidays and large orders."

Finally she'd said something that was getting through to them, or Lily anyway. "I wouldn't mind more time off."

"Well, think about it. One minimum, instead of two. Or... buck, we could even have a service window for snacks out front. We'd be the first thing ponies see on their way into town, and their last chance before taking the train home again."

"Sounds fantastic," Daisy said, her tone flat. "By the way, are you sure you weren't the one who hit her head? Where's this coming from, Rose? Why isn't the stand enough?"

It wasn't for Mom and Dad. It doesn't have to be enough for us either. She didn't want to argue that now, not while there were still potential customers passing by. Even if there were no major holidays and no Pinkie parties in the next week, there was still the snacks. The reason they needed two ponies instead of one. And if we had a fridge, we could do that in advance too.

"It's something to strive for now that we're in the black," Rose said. "We've got the Harvest Parade and Hearth’s Warming coming up. The way things are going, we'll have..." She did the mental math, then stopped herself. If she told them, her sisters would want to spend it other ways, insisting on taking their share off on vacation or something. One third wouldn't be enough.

"Lots," she finished lamely, trailing off. She let the subject drop after that, though she would find somepony to talk to about it. Long-term financial planning might be another one of her bat's skills.

It was hard to shake the feeling that she should be doing something more, after she'd been the one to get Tracy into danger this time. But aside from cleaning their house and planning out the next week of meals, she couldn't think of anything else. She probably shouldn't be so excited about it, but she couldn't help but think of all the time she'd have together with him.

His work had given him a week to recover before coming in. On the one hoof, that hadn't seemed fair—but on the other, it would probably be the longest uninterrupted block he had ever spent in Equestria.

One way or another, Roseluck would make it count.
> Chapter 43
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy did not expect visitors while waiting for the doctors to begrudgingly release him. This was another world, after all, one in which he had even fewer ties than Earth itself. But despite more than half a year of time in Equestria, it seemed there was still plenty for him to learn.

First it was several representatives of the flight school, including the safety crew that ostensibly should've been keeping him safe. He wasn't quite sure what to make of their feedback. "That was the best worst flying I've ever seen." But a few of them brought snacks and that made up for anything they said. 

Besides, they were visiting to apologize. His instructor, Giselle, even reiterated what Rose had told him, that the school would give him personal instruction until he was flying on his own.

A saner bat would've turned them away, he was sure. Nothing could teach him that he didn't belong in the sky quite as potently as getting electrocuted so much it earned him a nickname. He'd even got a few paragraph article on the third page of the Canterlot Today, which he'd saved copies of. If Shane ever wrote back to him from wherever he'd gone to do community service, Tracy would send him that.

The occasional visitor was the only brief moment of activity in what quickly became the most supernally boring hospital stay he had ever experienced. No phone, no internet, not even a television. Apparently the hospital had a library, but his stay was so short that no one had bothered asking if he wanted to read anything. 

I'd take that dumb flying manual over staring out the window all day. Not that the city wasn't interesting to look at. Canterlot seemed like a lovely place to live, with its ancient architecture and ponies walking and flying together. He'd happily spend days exploring the city, so long as Rose was along for the ride.

Boredom and pain were only mild improvements from his anxiety over Apex. Rose hadn't come back, which he assumed meant things had gone well and he would be getting Monday off. But without knowing that for sure, he couldn't help but thinking back to Discord's face in the courtroom, waiting patiently for Tracy to violate the terms of his lease.

A sharp knock at his door startled Tracy from his worried daydreams. He sat up, then jerked painfully in his restraints at what he saw in the doorway.

As though summoned by his thoughts, Discord strode in, with an oversized "get well soon" card in one arm, and a gigantic box of snacks in the other. Tracy's mouth began to water at the smell alone, before he noticed the little bug symbols on the top, and he settled defiantly back into his bed. "Of all the places I thought you would go, I didn't imagine I'd find you here, 'Spark Gap.'"

"That's not my name," Tracy muttered. If Discord had come to torture Tracy into doing something dumb, he'd have an easier time of it today. Between the pain and the medication, he wasn't exactly feeling restraint.

Discord gestured at the table of minor offerings visitors had left, and they exploded in a shower of confetti, making room for his own positively gigantic card. The whole hospital seemed to shake as he settled it down, with the image pointed directly at Tracy.

It depicted the crash itself in cartoonish detail, with an illustrated Tracy smashing into an electrical main. Lightning arched down his body, physically lighting up the card every few seconds. The illustrated bat's eyes opened with realistic pain each and every time.





"Technically, not yet." He set the box of snacks just in front of the card, opening it and nudging it towards the bed. Just close enough that Tracy could reach it with his good leg. "But I'm not here to pressure you. I just came to offer some needed support for someone using my Worldgate and living in my house. Even if I know I had nothing to do with your accident, I still feel responsible." 

He leered at Tracy across the bed, folding his mismatched limbs. "How are you feeling, anyway? Recovering from your accident?"

Tracy nodded curtly, mind reeling. Is Discord saying that he's somehow responsible for what happened to me? Could he really make me crash like that? It hadn't felt like anyone else was in control, but granted Tracy's memory of the flight had been muddied considerably. It was all still in there somewhere, just blurry. He had hit his head.

"Are you responsible?" Tracy asked. Probably more direct than he should be with a capricious demon. But those were some intense painkillers. "Did you somehow make me crash?"

Discord's smile widened. He turned slightly to one side, addressing the window more than he was Tracy himself. "I don't know what would make you ask such a thing. Here I am visiting as a friend in your time of need, and you throw around accusations. I was only saying that I'm the one who brought you to Equestria. Ultimately that makes me feel as though I had a hand in what happened. Crossing between universes is a dangerous profession. Anyone brave enough to attempt it must be aware of the risks. And... accept personal liability for any injuries up to and including broken bones, loss of animation impetus, and transfiguration into potentially horrific shapes. So please understand that while I feel responsible, your consent ensured I am in no way legally responsible for your misfortune." 

"This has something to do with... the other princess, the day one. What are you doing with her that her younger sister didn't like?"

That got his attention. He spun around so fast Tracy swore he heard bones snapping. "To use a human expression, I suggest you 'stay in your lane.' All I will say about my arrangements with the Diarch is that it involves no harm to you or your floral companion. Any suffering you experience is entirely self-inflicted. Mortal creatures are more than capable of creating their own chaos. My involvement would be redundant."

He turned to leave. Tracy probably should have just let him go. Once he suggested it, Tracy couldn't get the thought from his head. Discord was involved somehow. Even if all his fears about Discord somehow causing the accident were wrong, he was toying with his life.

"My lease is up in three months, right?"

Discord didn't turn, but he did stop in the doorway. Just outside, Tracy's usual nurse cowered in fear, huddled against the wall. An orderly emerged from a nearby room, levitating several trays in front of him—and he dropped them, bolting right back into the closet.

Are they crazy for overreacting, or am I for not fearing enough?

"Approximately, yes." Discord spoke with a forced casualness, but Tracy felt as though there was far more just out of reach. What are you hiding? "Why do you ask?"

"When it's up, what happens? Can I renew, are you gonna raise the rate... what? The lease just said it would involve later negotiation."

"Indeed." Discord spun back around, snapping the door closed behind him. Probably to the relief of the ponies outside. "I'm afraid the unit is only available for the terms you signed. The building and its associated Worldgate are a temporary installation. When your lease ends, you'll need to make other housing arrangements. How you make those arrangements is none of my business." 

And just like that, he was out the door, which now hung awkwardly from one of its hinges.

"Sorry about that, Spark Gap," said Nurse Royalheart, arriving a few minutes later with a meal he didn't want and an expression of barely suppressed terror. "None of our patients should have to deal with something so... horrifying. I'm sorry there was no way to send him away sooner."

You really are terrified. But aside from his behavior in the courtroom, Discord hadn't seemed warranting that kind of fear. Mostly he seemed to treat the world like a joke at their expense.

He shrugged. "Well, we're all still alive. When's my discharge time again, Royalheart?"

"Seven," she repeated, eyes narrowing. "You really should consider taking Doctor Waler's advice and staying another few days. Even with a wheelchair and your cast, there's a danger of complications. A small-town clinic can't do as much for you as a hospital like ours."

"I'll take my chances." At least people will call me by my real name. But he had a hard time feeling upset about it. These people were well-meaning enough, and it did apparently match his cutie mark. I wonder if I have a special talent after all. Does surviving electrocution count?

The last few hours waiting for Rose were by far the worst. The nurse had swapped him over to his take-home painkiller prescription then, which he still guessed from the bottle would make him fail a drug test. At least there weren't any other frightening visits to his hospital room before it was time to check out. Some part of him couldn't help imagining Celestia herself making an appearance, perhaps to counter what Discord had done.

But no—either Discord was telling the truth about their involvement in his life, or the princess had too much class. Probably the latter.

Tracy had never used a wheelchair before. The principle seemed simple enough, except for one obvious flaw: he didn't have hands. Despite his fears, it wasn't a wheelchair he ended up in. When it was nearly time to leave, Royalheart walked him down to physical therapy, where he was fitted for a standing restraint of sorts.

Once his foreleg cast was secured against his chest by aid of a strap, that shoulder rested against a rubber and metal harness, with a rugged wheel at his hoof height.

"Get a feel for it," Royalheart said, once it was tight on his chest. "It throws off the rhythm while walking. Don't even try to trot—stick with walking, it's the simplest."

I still don't exactly know the difference, so that might be tricky. There were differences, and his body somehow knew how to switch between them when he sped up or slowed down. But purposefully using one rhythm over others would not be easy.

Even a well-made wheel jerked and slid occasionally as he tried to walk, meaning he had to take his steps slowly and put more weight on his undamaged right foreleg. Not having my drafting hand is not going to make work very happy with me.

"How long did you say I had to keep this thing on again?" he asked, glaring down at the cast.

"We'll have you in and fitted for a smaller cast in two weeks," Royalheart answered. "You'll be able to walk in that one, but you'll have to keep it on for another two weeks to a month, depending on how well the healing potion worked for you. Different patients respond differently—that's why it's critically important you make your return appointment."

"I will," he promised. "Oh, that reminds me. I need my supervising doctor to sign something before I check out. My work will want proof that I was here, and..."

I'm royally screwed if they try to look up a doctor who doesn't exist. 

"Certainly. We'll get that taken care of, and then you can follow me down to check-out. You already have a pony waiting for you."

"Really?" The rest of the process might've taken almost an hour—more boring review of his medication, and steps for what he could and couldn't do in the restraints. Then, at long last, they led him to a lobby where Roseluck waited in a corner seat.

She looked up as he emerged, beaming across the room at him. He smiled stupidly back. Probably he should be feeling embarrassed—he must look completely absurd. But he was getting out, so it didn't matter.

"Fly a little straighter next time, Spark Gap," Royalheart said, by way of farewell. "See you in two weeks."
> Chapter 44
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Didn't get into any trouble while I was gone, I hope."

Tracy could still sit down on the cushions of the Ponyville Express, though the harness hung awkwardly over his chest, with the wheel and metal leg poking out towards the seat across the aisle. That was no terrible difficulty, given Rose sat beside him instead.

As eager as he might've otherwise been to spend more time in Canterlot, this was the last train of the night. If they didn't take it, they'd be stuck until the next morning—his own world's sundown. Too little too late.

"No trouble," he said, hesitating after a few seconds. "Well, none that was my fault. Our landlord visited."

Rose looked away from the window, eyes wide. "What happened?"

"Nothing, really. Left bugs in my room and a card that was too big to carry back." Not only that, but the card was apparently so massive that nopony could move it. So far as he knew, it was still resting on the end-table, showing his own grisly fate to all who visited. 

"Well that was nice of him," Rose said, one eyebrow raised. "Nothing else? No... threats, or conditions?"

No, but he did remind me that I can't stay in Equestria forever. Though that wasn't quite how he'd said it. Nor was it something he wanted to burden Rose with now. They still had three months together. A lot could change in that much time.

"I'm more worried about work. I can drive in with only one arm, but I'm not sure how much energy I'll have. I'll be a little late as it is, assuming this trip takes the hour it usually does. Nothing for it, I guess."

The mare nudged him, a grin replacing her worry. "Now that you don't have to worry about, Tracy. I called like you wanted. Your boss, uh... Janet. She didn't just give you the day, she gave you a whole week. Which honestly doesn't seem like enough time. You won't have the cast off in a week, even taking your regular healing potion."

"I don't need a leg to work, I sit in a desk all day anyway..." He trailed off, taking a few more seconds to process what she'd just said. Janet had given him the whole week. That seemed uncharacteristically generous, considering how skeptical she'd been of Tracy's last request for time off.

Maybe it's a test. Waiting to see what I look like when I get back into work. As it was, he still looked pretty bad. They'd changed out his bandages one more time, but that didn't mean the underlying burns were healed yet. According to Doctor Waler, he'd be peeling like the worst sunburn of his life in another week or two.

"You're sure that's what she said?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound like he didn't trust her. "That would be... really nice for Janet."

"I'm positive." Rose nudged him again, until her face was only inches from his. "You're stuck with me for a whole week. You might have to crash more often."

He rolled his eyes, but didn't get the chance to argue. He didn't want to.

Ponyville was dark and quiet by the time they arrived, walking back through the empty streets towards home. At least Rose was plenty patient with him as he stumbled on the harness. The longer he walked, the more tender his shoulder became. He couldn't put pressure on it for so long before something gave.

"I went through your room while you were out," she said, as they finally clicked the door shut behind them. "I washed everything, cleaned things out as best I could. You're going to need to do better once you're sharing my room."

"When I'm—" His ears curled back, and his face burned. But ponies had enough fur to cover that up. He looked, but there was nothing mocking about Rose's expression. 

She grinned back at him, deadly serious. "Not tonight, though. I know what it takes for a flying pony to heal, and that's plenty of rest and minimal stress."

She helped him up the stairs anyway. She was nearly a full head shorter than he was, yet she took his weight going up the steps like it was nothing. They said earth ponies were strong—that was apparently an understatement.





Rose followed him into his room, which she clearly had been through. It didn't look like anything was broken, though. She'd done a better job cleaning it all than he ever had. 

"Sit down, I'll help get that thing off," she instructed. "I don't envy you, trying to sleep with that thing on your leg. Bet it's annoying."

"Never... broken a bone before?" he asked, wincing as he settled down on the edge of the bed. "Never slept with a cast?"

"Nope." She pressed him down into the bed with one hoof. Her strength was irresistible, just as it had been going up the stairs. "I don't know many earth ponies who have. All the stories I can think of were... fatal. Heroes that held up collapsing buildings, or stopped the advance of an enemy army on their own. Crazy stuff."

"Damn. Remind me not to piss you off, then."

She was silent for another moment, probably because she was working with her mouth. Then the straps fell away, and she pulled back. "There, it's off. You should be able to hobble around on three legs if you don't go far. But call me if you need anything. The hospital gave me the supplies to change your bandages again tomorrow. That should be the last time you need it."

"If that's true, then it really is magic." He sat up, and found Rose hadn't actually moved. His face grew hot all over again. Good thing he was in so much pain, or else he probably would've done something stupid. "If I really bridged both sides of a powerline, I should be super dead. I've seen photos of what can happen. Sometimes there aren't even bones left, just ash."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, bat. Just because Nightmare Night is coming up doesn't mean we need horror stories."

"I'm not making it up! It's just... okay, I never saw it happen, they were just photos online. And we're talking birds, not people."

Rose shoved his good shoulder lightly with one hoof, then stood. "Flying ponies do better with electricity than the rest of us. Lightning can be fatal for an earth pony, but it definitely isn't for a pegasus. I guess you must be built similarly. Bats don't usually work weather, so I guess you just don't have the chance to find out. Or... maybe it's your cutie mark?" 

She stared, making him blush all over again. Too bad his suit had been turned to charcoal, or else he might still be wearing pants. As it was, the image on his fur was entirely intact. Neither side had been the least-bit scorched in his accident.

"Have you figured out what it means since coming here?"

He sighed. "Other than something for ponies in that hospital to call me, nope. I assumed it was something that meant more in your world than mine. But I wasn't brave enough to ask."

"You'll figure it out." Rose turned to go. He almost asked her not to—but he was exhausted, sore, and wrapped in bandages. He probably wasn't great to look at right about now.

The next few days passed in much the same way. Rose must've been taking her own time off work to help him so much, because she was at home with him for most of the day. Without the full range of human motion, Tracy was forced to rely on her far more than he would've otherwise. He simply wasn't capable of removing the harness on his own, or doing plenty of other things.

Roseluck didn't seem to mind. She even sat with him to watch a few movies while they were stuck at home. 

Granted, he didn't really get to watch any of them, not with her constant questions. Even so, he made sure to select films that she would be able to better appreciate. Animated films had always been one of his guilty pleasures, and now he was with someone who wouldn't judge him for watching Moana more than once.

Granted, going through the Disney catalog did have its downsides.

"I knew your world had magic!" Rose proclaimed, over the ending credits of Frozen. "You should study your own history better, Tracy. These documentaries make it so obvious. You've just... forgotten, over time. How long ago did that happen?"

"Never," he said. He'd tried different variations of that same answer. This time he went for the most direct. "These aren't true stories. They're entertainment. We watch them because they're fun, but nothing in them is true."

She stuck her tongue out, tossing popcorn at him. They had at least one snack in common between worlds. "You're wrong, Tracy. Love can melt a frozen heart. You'll be here for Hearth’s Warming, you'll see. We have a story kinda like this, only it's true."

She hopped out of the couch, grin widening. "You have holidays too, right? If this is your version of a Hearth’s Warming, do you have a Nightmare Night too?"

"I... think so." Navigating through his Plex library with a remote and his mouth didn't get easier, even after living in Equestria for half a year. He selected the Nightmare Before Christmas, though he didn't start playing it yet. This should be the right balance of frightening and safe for a pony. Hopefully. "The more I think about it, the weirder it seems." 

He didn't stand up, though that was mostly because his harness was on the floor several feet away. "You're another universe. We shouldn't have anything in common. I've assumed we could only talk because the portal did something to my brain on the way in. But... we do have matching holidays. This one coming up is called Halloween, and it matches what you said about yours... way too well. Kids go around getting candy, everyone dresses up, people decorate their houses..."

Rose shrugged. "I'm sure there's a magical explanation for it. But now... why don't you start the next one. I'll make dinner."

"Sure." He rested the remote on one knee. After several days of healing, the bandages were gone. His fur was a little darker in patches, and the skin beneath occasionally itched like it was coming off. But it hadn't. The worrying signs of infection hadn't appeared. Pony medicine really was magical. 

"But I should warn you. This is a Halloween film. And before I play it—it's even more pretend than the others. It's meant to be spooky and uncomfortable. It's not trying to teach anything about magic in my world, just to be scary. Okay?"

"Oh, you have that tradition too?" Rose squeezed up beside him. "In Equestria we have to go and visit places to be scared, we can't just... do it whenever we want. We can do takeout or something." She folded her hooves, grinning. "I won't be scared."

Rose clearly tried very hard not to act afraid. Tracy pretended not to notice her shivering and occasionally looking away during the climax. The more frightened she became, the closer to him she got. 

It was too bad he couldn't get time off more often.




> Chapter 45
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





Tracy's week off went by in a blur so rapid he could barely grasp it in his fingers. 

Technically he didn't have fingers for any of it, which was part of the problem. Spending so long in Equestria without stepping outside even once wreaked havoc on his perceptions. He didn’t have nightmares about being trapped with stumps instead of hands. Instead, he woke in a cold sweat Thursday morning trying to reconcile the thin, bony digits that grew from his hooves.

How could they be so thin? How had he managed to keep them all for more than two decades now, and not get them caught in car doors or blenders or the mouths of carnivorous fish?

Waking brought clarity, but still left him feeling shaken. What would happen if he couldn't tell which world was his anymore?

Of course he had the very best company during his break, though Rose still left several times a day for brief shifts at the flower shop.

It was during one of these that there was a knock at the door on the Equestrian side. He almost ignored it out of habit, but a glance towards the door showed him that the windows were open, and the pony on the other side could see him at the kitchen table. He pressed the laptop lid closed, hobbling over to the door and opening it with his mouth.

"Afternoon Muffins," he said, as politely as he could. "Something for Rose?"

It was just a letter, but he couldn't quite bring himself to ask why she hadn't just put it through the slot. Saying anything unkind to her felt a little like deliberately stomping on a garden. 

"For you, Tracy," she said, proffering it. "It's... a little late, sorry about that. I wasn't sure where the pony with that name lived... I knew we'd talked once before. Sorry."

He took it. There was an address scribbled under his name, just like any message sent on Earth. But if Muffins's boss let her do the mail by learning where everyone lived, who was he to tell her otherwise. 

He squinted down at the text for a moment, before gripping it delicately on the back of one wing. It was some of the worst handwriting he'd ever seen, worse than most grade schoolers. Only his name was readable.

"I'm glad you found me at all with an address like that," he said. "Have a good day."

"You too!" She beamed, waving one of her feathery wings in return. She stopped halfway down the path, turning to glance back at him. "Shouldn't you be asleep? The sun is still up."

He'd already shut the door most of the way. He cracked it open, smiling ruefully. "Sun's down where I'm from," he answered. She seemed to accept that answer, because she returned to her route without a backward glance. 

A few months ago and he probably would've gone outside to open the letter, where his weird fingers could do the hard work. But now he knew where Rose kept the letter-opener, and he could brace the envelope with one hoof while slicing through the thick paper with the tool in his mouth.

There was only a single sheet of paper inside, written in the same almost indecipherable script as the address. It took only the first line for Tracy to realize why. Shane didn't have magic, and he didn't have months to learn to write with his mouth. Interpreting the scribbles took a great deal of attention and focus, but he managed.

"Tracy,

Wanted to tell you I was doing well. The ponies sent me to help at a dig. Big words are hard, but Fossil says I need to practice if I want to get better.

I'm still not sure what I will tell my family about this, but I know how. You have a few months left, I remember. If you get a package from me with a letter addressed to Ely, just stamp it and send it on. Maybe walk up to the mailbox wearing a mask or something, I dunno. I don't want them to think you killed me.

This community service stuff isn't so bad, even if I am digging holes. I think maybe when I'm done I might look for work in construction. A couple of the other volunteers are talking about starting something together, and I'm invited.

I'm losing track of time. But if my math is right, I should be done before your last month. I'm going to try to see you off in Ponyville, if I can. 

You probably feel the same way as Anton and Marshall, but I'm gonna say it anyway. If you're smart, you won't go back. I know you didn't fail at life like I did, but take some advice:

It's better here. There's no promotion in the world as good as whatever demon let you move here. If you're smart, you'll take one look at the door back home, and run as far away as you can.

You can share this letter with the others if you want, I don't care. I'm sure they still think I'm insane. But you've been here. You know what I'm talking about. Don't give it up.

-Shane"

Shane was right about one thing—the others would think he was crazy. He would tell the others that Shane was doing okay, but that was it. That was probably all they needed to hear.

And not because they would start pressuring me to get out of here. Certainly he had no selfish motives.

He slept restlessly that night, and not because he hadn't been using the Everwake during his week off. There was a pounding from downstairs, loud enough to shake the floor under his feet. Tracy sat up groggily, and found his phone was ringing.

Good thing he hadn't started sharing a bed with Rose yet, or she wouldn't be happy. He pressed the speakerphone button with his nose. "Hello?"

It was Steven, the other junior intern at Apex. "Tracy, are you still alive or what?"

He sat up, shaking off the vestiges of sleep. At least the banging stopped. "Yeah," he answered. "I'm recuperating. I'm not supposed to be at work until Monday."

"I know," he said. "Janet sent me to check on you, assess your recovery, and collect your doctor's authorization for HR."

He stiffened, then jerked painfully into motion. "Is that you making a racket at my front door?"

"I'm checking for signs of life," Steven answered. "Look, just get down here. It's cold as hell out here, I'll be in my car. It's not your leg, right? Let me expense you some lunch."

"One minute," Tracy said. "I'll be right out."

Tracy started with a little glass vial, which banished the exhaustion in an eyeblink. He dressed as quickly as he could, working around the cast. Here's hoping it doesn't break my arm as soon as I step through the door.

It had been long enough since he went out, he almost forgot his phone. He didn't forget the folder of medical notes he'd prepared for HR, though his heart started to race at the very thought of having Karen looking at what was inside. If she gave it anything more than a passing glance, he was screwed.

Rose was standing in the doorway to her bedroom, mane disheveled in a way he swore was deliberate. Following her into that bedroom was the one step he hadn't quite been ready to take. So long as his foreleg was in a cast, he had an excuse. But he wouldn't have it for long. "What's the noise?" she asked. "Is it your side?"

He nodded, leaning forward to peck her lightly on the cheek. "It's a friend from work—my only friend from work, really. He wants to make sure I'm okay."

"Should I make snacks?"

His wings opened nervously to either side. "I don't think he'd handle the revelation of where I live very well. Janet might—my boss is really chill. She'd probably ask about the cell coverage or something."

He turned, making his stumbling way downstairs. It took deliberate concentration to walk with only three legs, and took a harsh toll on the leg he used more often. He didn't bother closing the intermediate door behind him, or else waste another thirty seconds fumbling.

Eventually he reached the front door. He braced his shoulder against the wall for a second to catch his breath, then undid the locks one at a time. 

Hope it's been long enough that you're bored, Tracy thought. Unlike the old door, Discord's replacement was built entirely from steel, without so much as a peephole to glance outside.

He lifted the medical folder out from under a wing, taking it in his mouth. Then he swung the door open.

Steven lounged on the porch, tapping out something on his phone. He looked up as the door swung open, staring straight in at Tracy.

The iPhone slipped from his fingers, shattering to splinters on the pavement in front of him.

Oh shit.

Tracy lunged across the threshold to the Earth side, feeling a wave of nausea sweep over him at the speed of the transition. Adrenaline was on his side this time, and he managed to hold down his dinner. 

He removed the folder from his mouth, tucking it between the arm brace and his chest. The arm was restrained almost exactly as his leg had been, with straps that wrapped around his neck and chest. It itched something fierce.

He bent down, picking up the fallen phone and pressing it towards Steven. "Thought you were gonna wait in the car." He wasn't wrong—for San Jose, this was the coldest he'd ever felt it. Nothing close to how Ely could get during the worst nights, but chilly enough that he'd go back for a sweatshirt.

Except, of course, that would probably give his poor friend another heart attack.

Steven took the phone, his hands shaking visibly. He muttered something indistinct—Hindi, not English. Finally he recovered enough to slip the phone into a pocket of his jacket, stumbling away from Tracy. "S-sorry. Think I... think I might need to go to the hospital. Swear I just..."

His eyes fixed on Tracy, suddenly intent. "Swear I saw something impossible. Demon, or maybe a stroke."

Tracy nodded weakly. A few words right now could probably convince his friend he'd had a brief bout on insanity—but it hadn't been some quick glance. Steven saw him from feet away, for several seconds straight. 

He just couldn't bring himself to lie. "Actually, you saw into another universe. If you want to get technical about it."

Steven's face was already as pale as Tracy had ever seen him. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and he looked between Tracy and the still-open doorway. The door into the kitchen was still open, exposing the living room with its too small furniture.

And much more significantly, the windows on the Ponyville side, with empty streets lit by moonlight where another building should be on the Earth side.

Steven took another step back, muttering a long string of Hindi under his breath. 

Only when Tracy pulled the door closed did he finally stop. "What is happening, Tracy? Thought you were shy, bit weird. So is everyone at Apex, that's the point. What the hell is going on?"

"I got tricked into a lease with the devil," he said. The words felt strange on his tongue—after his Ely friends visited, he never imagined saying them again. But what more harm could they do? "I can't move out until the year's over, and everyone on that side is a horse. I can show you, if you want."

Steven backed away another few steps. "Insane," he said. "Impossible. All of it."

"I thought so, but I've been stuck here for nine months now. It's not so bad when you get used to it." He held out the folder. "Do you want my medical stuff for HR?"

Steven shook his head vigorously, backing away another few steps. He was most of the way to his car now. He bounced on the edge of his toes, ready to sprint for his life at a moment's notice. "I'm gonna... I'll tell Janet you're in bad shape," he said. "See if I can convince her to give you remote work. Don't know... what the hell else... demon at work."

"Not a demon," he said again, annoyed. "I made one deal, and I thought I was just signing the damn lease. The people who live there are really nice, actually. You could meet the girl I've been talking about, Rose. We can have lunch at my place."

Steven sprinted for his life. He flung himself into his car, wheels squealing as he peeled away, door hanging open all the while.

Tracy watched him drive off, medical file still in hand. "Well... crap."
> Chapter 46
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy stumbled inside, heart still racing and head pounding. He smacked the door closed behind him, securing both locks. He slid against the cold metal, flopping weakly to the floor. 

Someone knew. Not his Ely friends, who had no interest in revealing his secret. Steven, who was always worried about visas, whose family was a thousand miles away and who basically lived in his cubicle.

This is the beginning of the end. This is when the men in black show up to burn the whole block to the ground and erase all our memories. If there was enough magic in the world for portals to open to other universes, someone had to be dealing with it, right? Now the secret would be out.

Tracy locked the inner door, lifting his phone carefully onto the table in front of him. He could think of only one way to hedge this off. It was probably doomed, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

Steven's phone was trashed, after all. But so long as he stayed inside the house, signals from his world reached in here just fine. So he called his boss.

Janet answered after exactly two rings, same as she always did. "Tracy? How's it going?"

"Recovering," he said. "Listen, you... probably know this, but Steven was just here."

There was a brief pause. "I sent him to see how you were doing. You sound like something's wrong." 

He nodded, then realized that was stupid. The day he accidentally pressed video call, God have mercy on his soul. "Yeah, it's... look, keep an eye on him when he gets back. He freaked the hell out in front of me, some kind of... nervous episode. Felt like crunch had really been getting to him."

There was a long silence on the other end. "That's the kind of thing better taken up with HR. I keep telling corporate they're pushing us too hard. But launch day waits for no man." She sighed, and he heard her expensive chair springs shifting and adjusting. 

"Did he talk to you about going remote? I'm not sure if you'd prefer to do things that way while you heal up. And if I'm about to lose my other draftsman for a few days of wellness leave, I'll need someone to pick up the slack. Can you still work with one arm?"

"Not fast," he admitted. Though even if he had both forelegs, his work would've suffered. The laptop's magically modified interfaces worked well enough, but human hands were just better. Maybe if he'd been a unicorn... "But I'm willing to try it. I've got pretty good hardware here already, if you want to send me license codes for Autodesk."

Rose emerged from the stairs, a robe on over her shoulders. She took one look at the phone, and didn't speak, though she did stop just a few feet away.

"Appreciate the attitude, but no. Work files don't leave work computers. I'll bring you a laptop after work—they're upgrading the department anyway, you can just be the first. Well, second. I got the first one."

He winced, mind spinning as he reached for any excuse he could find. For better or worse, Steven wasn't terribly articulate, and had about as much clout at the company as Tracy did. But if Janet saw him, he would have to convince her or give himself up as doomed.

All that's assuming Steven doesn't bring the police here, or something worse. Maybe Shane was right, maybe he should run as far away from the door as possible.

But Discord would still be expecting rent. I should've paid the whole year. Did he have three months’ rent in savings by now? He'd have to check into that.

"I'll see you after work," Janet went on. "Oh, and if she's around, I'd like to meet your girlfriend. I know how hard it can be to take care of someone with a serious injury—she deserves a medal."

"I can be there!" Rose said from over his shoulder. "No problem!"

"She heard that? Great, I guess. But don't forget your NDA while working from home, Tracy."

"I know," he said flatly. "I haven't."

"Good to hear. See you tonight." The phone clicked, then fell silent.

Tracy took a slow, deliberate breath, turning towards Rose. "You know what you just agreed to, right? You can't meet her in here. You'll have to visit my world."

Rose shrugged. "I thought you said your boss would be fine with Equestria."

"She..." He looked away. "She might've been, before. But someone else from work saw me. If anyone else finds out, it's gonna be... it's probably going to be hell either way. But the more people know, the worse it gets. If somehow they don't drag me away before dinner, I'm not going to make it worse."

Rose considered that. He tensed, preparing for the argument, or at least the deflection. She'd been putting off the cross to his side for months. How would she do it this time?

"After work," she began. "Is that... that's around dinner time, right?"

"Breakfast over here, but yeah." He glanced at the phone again. "About six hours from now. Maybe seven, since she'll take some time in getting here."

Rose smiled nervously. "I did promise I'd let you take me on a date over there. We could go after she leaves."

She leaned forward, resting one hoof on his shoulder. "It doesn't have to be as fancy as Canterlot. I kinda... hoped it wouldn't be. I want to see what things are normally like in your world, not where you go for special stuff."

You've been waiting for an excuse, he realized.

"I... Sure, I guess." He sat up, mind running rapidly now. "We can't let her see us leave the house. We'll have to be waiting for her before she gets here..." There was some lawn furniture outside, shared with the neighbors. He'd never actually seen any of it used. 

"If you're sure," he said again. "I'll make some arrangements. But I'm going to need you to promise a few things. First, you have to be careful with what you tell Janet. Can't tell her you're a pony, can't tell her about Equestria."

She nodded once. "I understand."

He silenced her with his hoof. "Second part probably won't matter. But if I say so, you need to be ready to run back into Equestria and not look back. Can you do that?"

She nodded again. "Are you worried about something?"

"Yes. I told you—my friend who visited saw me. It might make this whole thing pointless, depending on what he tells Janet, and who she believes. But if the human authorities get involved, I don't want you getting hurt. Forget about me, run right back here, and lock the door tight. I have a feeling Discord's new security will deal with any intruders."

Rose nodded, though her confidence was melting rapidly. He could probably press that angle, maybe scare her away from the attempt. It was probably the worst possible day to make the trip. But if he did that, she might never visit Earth. He'd never get to see what she looked like.

"You said six hours? If you don't mind... I'm going to get some sleep. You should too." She turned, flicking her tail at him.

The gesture was as deliberate as ever, but for once he was too distracted to stare. "I'm not tired anymore," he said. "Besides, I might need to be up if something happens. Just remember, you have to be dressed first. It's not 'fancy' on my side, it's essential."

She nodded, stalking back up the stairs. With as much nervous fear as he felt, he could only wonder if Discord was somehow behind all this. He was furious with Tracy over the loss of potential thralls, he knew that much. Maybe this was his way of getting even.

What was Tracy supposed to do, ask?

He spent the next few hours searching for places he could take Rose. Assuming he wasn't dragged off by the SCP before nightfall, he needed to make the date count. 

Just like that, it was clocking out time at work, and time to prepare for Janet's arrival. Rose appeared from the stairs at almost that exact moment, grinning at him.

She was gorgeous, but that hadn't changed. The dress didn't have as many layers as the one she'd worn to Canterlot, but that didn't matter. Despite all known laws of aviation, the clothes only made her seem more attractive. How could she do that?

"We have to wait for her on the other side, don't we? I thought I might want to cross a little before she got there. I should've done this days ago, but..." She shrugged. "I'm not as brave as you are. Going on adventures into other worlds was never my thing. That's why we keep the Elements around."

They walked to the outer door together, and Tracy stopped just beside it. "I'll go first. But once I open it, you have to come too. If you stand on this side, people nearby could see you. Straight out, okay?"

She nodded nervously, touching her head against his. "We're the same ponies on that side, right? You don't turn into someone else?"

So close to her, he could feel her racing heartbeat where her skin met his. She was terrified. "Yes," he said, without hesitation. "I did this every day, Rose. You don't—" Then he stopped. He wanted to say that crossing didn't change anything about the way he thought. But it wasn't true. He hadn't had a steak in the last four months.

"You don't what?" she prompted, forcing him to meet her eyes. "What is it, Tracy? Tell me everything."

"I feel more like a pony, even on that side," he said lamely. "It's mostly been food. Some of my old favorite foods make me queasy, and I don't know why. I looked it up, even. Horses can eat meat, it's just that they—"

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not asking about the menu! Just promise I'll still be me, that's all."

"You will be," he said, more confidently this time. "I still feel like the same person I was when I moved in. I assume it's the same in both directions."

"Alright then." She patted him once on the shoulder. "Then let's go. I have the whole day for this, but Daisy made me promise to tell her everything. We have to get some good stories out there."

"Whatever happens, I think we'll manage that." Tracy didn't fling the door all the way open, even if he didn't have as much dexterity with one leg in a sling. He opened it about a foot, then stepped out through the gap.

Curiously, he felt the same vertigo he had earlier, even though he wasn't rushing this time. His head swam, and he touched the wall with his good hand, steadying himself. He didn't turn around, instead standing in the opening and scanning their surroundings for danger.

There were no mysterious unmarked vans, or circle of a dozen police. The street looked the same as ever, in fact. He'd remembered a jacket this time, so he didn't even shiver in the cold. "Looks good," he said. "She's not here yet."

Rose made a nervous squeaking sound, muttering to herself. "Now or never, now or never, now or never..." She stumbled out abruptly, so fast she smacked into his back. He backed away, but managed not to fall over. He'd been doing two legs for his whole life, he could manage it now!

Then he saw her. Her clothes had transformed as seamlessly as his own, into a strapless green dress. She wore ribbons in her hair, which streamed down her back in a protrusion of impossible reds. 

It was a beauty the Earth had never seen, a pale unseelie queen come to dance in the meadows and make all the flowers bloom.





She stared back at him, lips quavering. She stared down at slender arms, flexing her fingers like they were the gloves of an EVA suit. "That bad, huh?"

He answered the only way he could think of; he kissed her.
> Chapter 47
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roseluck was by no means a sheltered pony. 

Technically speaking, she'd spent most of her life that way, protected from all harm in the safety of Celestia's kingdom. But since the return of Nightmare Moon, Roseluck had become brave enough to face the threats around her.

Then she stepped into another world, and all her confidence melted, like a bouquet left out in the sun for a week. For a few terrible moments, she was frozen in place, feeling stretched and deformed by Discord's Worldgate. None of her limbs were in the right place, and many no longer felt right.

She'd seen photographs of humans, probably knew them as well as Heartstrings. But a week of watching images on Tracy's viewing portal was nowhere near the sensation of being one.

The fur being gone was the first thing, bringing with it a chill of cold that made her skin ripple with goose pimples. Her tail was gone, and her forelegs hung awkwardly at her sides. Even her torso felt wrong, stretching out her dress and making her wobble slightly to try and keep her balance.

She lifted her strange new limbs, flexing the dull claws Tracy called “fingers.” They moved at her command, though how anypony could command so many at once was baffling to her.

She was near to despairing before she finally saw something familiar: him.

Tracy grinned at her, mouth hanging open like a stallion's first summer. She could barely identify her own bucking body, yet there was an island of something familiar. He proved those stupid hand-things were good for something, by wrapping one around her back. Those fingers could touch so much all at once, while remaining soft and warm.

"That bad, huh?" she asked. She meant to say something else, probably about how much of an alien monster she'd become. He interrupted.

Their lips were different, but the kiss still felt the same. Some languages, it turned out, were universal.

Embarrassment too, judging by how swiftly he let go. "Sorry about that. It's just... I should've known you'd look this way. Good. Really good. Never thought I'd see anyone who could pull off hair that bright."

She followed his gaze to her mane, or... hair, they called it here. Despite her insistence on a casual date, she'd worn no less powder than usual, and spent quite some time recreating the braid she wore on their first real date. It fell over one of her shoulders, color almost unchanged. Her skin around it was different, pale and pinkish like some of the humans she'd seen, but not quite as white as her old fur.

"I don't want to pull it off," she said seriously. She folded her arms across her chest, looking as stern as she could manage. "If manes detach on your side, I want mine to remain in place."

He laughed, touching her shoulder with his good hand. "It's just something you say, you don't actually do it." He spun around, looking away from her suddenly. 

She'd hardly noticed the world away from the porch. There were familiar growing things on this side, a grass lawn and a few stray wildflowers. Mostly weeds—she could make a few decent salads with the ingredients here. Maybe she could get him to pick a few on his way in next time.

She had seen out this way before. Only once through the front door, but several times through Tracy's open window. The metal beasts zooming both directions down the human road still seemed loud and unpleasant. So some things hadn't changed.

"That's her," Tracy muttered, nodding towards the road. A smaller, silvery car pulled neatly to a stop, and another human got out.

She was taller than Rose, with short brown hair and a strange formal suit. Celestia only knew what a mare like her wanted to do with trousers in a formal setting. She carried a black box under one arm, and despite its small size she clearly strained under the weight, leaning to one side.

"Tracy," she said, with a bit of a grunt. "And Rose, I assume." She stopped nearby, settling the box onto the ground with some relief. "Pleasure to meet you." Then she did something strange. Rose had seen it before, though none of Tracy's moving images showed it very close up. She stuck her hand toward Tracy, and he took it, shaking for a second. Then she did the same toward Rose.

She stared down, eyes widening in confusion. "What—"

Tracy gestured from behind her. What could Rose do but try? "Pleasure," Rose repeated. "You sound like... Janet, right? His boss." Up close, there were a few subtle signs of other things. Janet was older than either of them, though not by much. Rose's nose felt completely numb, but Tracy didn't look at Janet the way he looked at Rose. If anything, this woman intimidated him.

Evidently she'd done it wrong, because Janet didn't grip her hand nearly as long. She touched Rose's awkwardly, then pulled back. "Yep. I stand at the threshold of corporate wrath, sheltering my feeble band."

She gestured, expectant. "How's the arm?"

Tracy held it out as best he could, though he didn't remove the supports. "They took off the cast, but it has to stay immobilized for another week. After that, I can't carry more than five pounds, and I have to go in for a checkup every fortnight. X-rays look good, or that's what the doctor says."

Janet looked him over, expression unreadable. Finally she nudged the case toward him with a foot. "Here's the laptop. Take good care of her, she's also your desktop now. IT transferred everything for you. There's docking stations at all the desks now. Very modern." 

Tracy bent down with his good arm, wincing as he stretched. It was just like in Equestria—he hid the pain well, but too much bending the wrong way would damage the injured leg.

Rose beat him to it, lifting the handle effortlessly in one hand. It was heavier than it looked, but she could hardly tell what had been giving Janet trouble with it.

"Damn," Janet whistled, staring. "Be careful with this one, Tracy. She gets to the gym more than you do."

She took a single step closer, lowering her voice. "You were right about Steven, by the way. He was fucking hysterical when he walked into my office. I didn't get a single coherent word out of him, had to send him home." She glanced back towards the door to the apartment. "This is a serious question, and I expect a serious answer: is your place haunted?"

Tracy laughed, though there was nothing of the warmth in it Rose was used to. It was the same fake laugh he used when trying to convince ponies he understood something he didn't. He reached back, opening the door wide. "Not that I've ever seen. You see any ghosts?"

Janet eyed the open doorway, then looked to Rose. "What about you. Ever see any ghosts? I know it sounds silly, but... I tell you, I have. And if you saw Steven's face, you'd think he did too."

Rose shook her head. "My landlord is a bucking nightmare, but I don't think he counts as a ghost. You're talking about... souls of the dead?" She looked back towards Tracy. "I thought you worked with machines."

He shut the door quickly. "No ghosts, boss. That's one thing I'm certain about."

Janet eyed him. Somehow, Rose could read that expression, the same way she'd judge a pony's ears and tail to reflect their emotions. She was growing suspicious.

"It would help to know what set Steven off," she said. "He insists you didn't do anything to him, didn't touch him, nothing. But what he did say... like I said, completely incoherent. I've been good to you, Tracy. I'm good to all my people. But doing that takes knowing what they need.

"I have never heard Steven say a word about religion, not to me or anyone else. But before I sent the kid home, he told half the office you were a demon. If your house isn't haunted, why would he think that?"

Rose choked back a laugh, not very successfully. Even in his own world people thought Tracy was some kind of evil invader. She wasn't the only one.

Tracy sighed deeply. "Suppose there was a reason, boss. Suppose it was something so completely insane that you'd call me to have me confined if I told you."

Janet did something strange then, reaching into her shirt and removing something from within. It was a piece of jewelry, though the shape and purpose of it was so bewildering Rose almost dropped the box. There was a little human on it, with an exceptionally unhappy expression.

"I'd ask whether he was right about the demons," Janet said. "I know, completely inappropriate. If you're a Satanist, it's no business of Apex. It won't affect your position on my team."

"No!" Tracy looked like he might vibrate apart with nervousness, glancing between Janet and Rose. "I'm not a Satanist, whatever that even means. I can show you what Steven saw, right here. I just..." His shoulders sagged. Rose could imagine his wings dragging along behind him as he spoke. "Just promise not to tell anyone. Can you do that?"

"Is it illegal?"

"No. Not on their side, and I know we don't have laws about it on ours."

"Then fine." Janet folded her arms. Her behavior might be strange, but Rose found her admiration growing even so. Tracy was wrong to be afraid of her. "Promise. What is it?"

Tracy walked over to the door, then held it open. "Rose, could you bring that box inside for me? We won't want to take it with us tonight anyway."

Go right back in, just after crossing? Rose looked nervously between him and the door. "Are you... sure?"

He nodded wearily. "Janet's right, I owe her my trust." There was an undercurrent of something else, just beneath the surface. But he wasn't saying, and she couldn't smell him well enough to guess. 

Rose stopped in front of the doorway, settling the box down on the ground. She wasn't sure what would happen when she crossed, but hooves couldn't grab things like that.

Then she stepped back. The change was as disorienting as it had been the first time. She fell forward onto her hooves, and all the normal things about being a pony were briefly confusing. She felt a moment of panic as her forelegs settled against the floor, the usual flat lumps. She pranced back around in a circle, smiling up at Janet.

The humans towered over her, but she was brave this time. She didn't run away. She bent down, took the box in her mouth, and pulled it inside.

Then came the hard part. She was already feeling overwhelmed, completely out of her depth. Could she handle that assault of alien sensations a second time?

Tracy looked back at her, eyes wide with panic. She could smell it on him too—for him, this moment was as desperate as an invasion. 

Rose crossed. She wobbled, and he caught her this time, steadying her with one hand. "Thank you."

Janet looked inside, then back at the two of them. "He's not crazy,” she muttered, moving one hand over her chest in a strange pattern. "I'll be damned."

"I could never explain it," Tracy said. "If I'd told you, you would've put me on a 5150."

Janet pushed him gently aside, walking around them both and over to the doorway. She extended one hand across the threshold, very slowly. It turned bright yellow, sharpening and narrowing into an avian claw. She squealed in surprise, stumbling back. "God in heaven. What is that?"





It was Rose's turn to steady Tracy. He swallowed, opening his mouth and closing it again without managing anything. But Rose waited—any explanation she had to give would probably make things worse.

"The house is cursed," Tracy said. "Along with anyone in it. I have to keep living here until the end of the year, or else it's permanent."

It's not a curse! But she restrained herself, only out of compassion. But she would demand an apology later, once this woman had gone.

Janet nodded, tucking her jewelry away. "That is... insane." She stared down at her hand, flexing her fingers, turning it over. "I am going to... expect you to tell me everything. Eventually." She nodded politely towards Rose. "You live in a cursed house too?"

Rose nodded. "I'm from there. It doesn't seem cursed to me."

"Oh." She paled another few shades. "Of course you are. Of course you are." She turned to leave. "I need a 1.0 by the end of next week, Tracy," she said. Her tone felt oddly stiff, all friendliness gone. "You scared the shit out of Steven, you can finish his work."

She walked calmly back to her car, snapped the door shut, and drove away.
> Chapter 48
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rose might not know exactly what she was doing with these strange bodies, but some things didn't need much instruction. She rested her hand on Tracy's shoulder, looking up at him. "Is that what you expected?" 

"Nope." He smiled anyway, smiled at her. To think that Rose had believed he was the first wave of another invasion. "Thanks for being there anyway. Felt easier with someone else around. Doesn't feel as much like I'm losing my mind. But I won't blame you if you don't want to see any more of my world."

She shoved him. Not hard—she couldn’t be sure of her own strength in this world, and Tracy still had a broken leg. But saying something so dumb deserved a response in kind. "I crossed a universe for you, Tracy. I'm not sure I'll ever be brave enough to do it again. If it's my only trip, I'd like to see the sights." 

"Well then." He locked the door behind them, then led the way to his own metal monster. He opened the side with his good arm. There were no teeth inside, it wasn't a maw waiting to devour them. Instead there were a few comfortable seats, and smells so powerful it nearly overwhelmed her. 

"How many coconuts were you delivering?" 

He laughed, and finally started to look like himself again. "It's an air freshener. There were never any coconuts."

"Too bad. We don't get exotic fruit in Ponyville very often. Was going to ask if I could steal some." She wasn't sure exactly how to get in, at least not until Tracy walked around to the other side and demonstrated. Once she saw it all made sense—the seats were the perfect shape for humans, and would've been quite uncomfortable with her real body. Nowhere for a tail to go, and a gaping void for her to fall into if she wasn't prepared.

But the humans had taken care of that too, with clever restraints that came right out of the walls. Only after Tracy showed her how to attach them did he start doing things to the controls. That explained the strange key he always carried.

"We're moving," Rose said, hand darting over to grip his leg. "Are you sure this is safe?"

He nodded, though he didn't take his hand from the circle in front of him. His other just hung there, limp. "Yes, Rose. But I only have one hand right now, so I need to focus."

She let go, and felt warmth rising from her face. "Sorry, sorry. Probably takes all your attention to serve as engineer on this compact railcar. That's what it is, right?"

"More or less," he answered. "And yeah, usually. Not because it's hard, but because there are other people on the road. It's them you have to watch."

They moved. She watched outside as the nearby buildings blurred past them. The rush was far stronger than anything she'd felt from a train—they were so low to the ground, and accelerated so fast!

"We used to use... horses, a long time ago. But caring for horses is expensive, and made the cities dirty, and..." Now his face lit up, bright red patches just like Rose had felt moments before. "Sorry, that sounds terrible. It's like in those movies, remember? Horses aren't ponies, they're not smart. I'm not trying to make comparisons."

"Relax." Rose held up one hand. "Even in Equestria horses are something different. You don't need to answer every question tonight."

She didn't want him to try, not when there was so much to see just outside. The buildings here were more like Canterlot than Ponyville, several stories tall at the shortest. But even as darkness fell in his world, there was so much light. Downtown Manehattan stayed lit up like this, and the bat neighborhoods in a few smaller cities. But nowhere she'd visited very often.

Some part of Rose kept alert for danger every moment. There had to be an army waiting somewhere, poised to invade her home. Or maybe there were lakes of fire, ponies screaming as they were tortured, something. 

She saw none. They passed parks filled with happy people, sidewalks lined with palm trees, and a few buildings so tall she had to strain her neck to see the top. But no soldiers, no demons, no terrors.

It's just a city, she realized. "Living here must be... crazy," she muttered. "I like Ponyville better. My customers are my friends, instead of strangers."

Finally they stopped, beside a building no stranger than any they'd visited so far. "This part should be more of what you're expecting, honestly. Restaurants are basically the same in every universe, I guess."

He wasn't wrong, though of course there was plenty to be confused and bewildered about. For thinking her nose had gone numb, she was suddenly surrounded by smells she couldn't identify, rich, savory scents that filled the air and grew stronger whenever food was delivered around them.

"Wasn't sure exactly what you'd want to see..." he said, after placing an order for both of them. After trusting her so often when they went out together, it was her turn to do a little trusting in return. "I thought about ice skating. But that seemed like a bad idea. You just learned to walk, so... yeah, not that."

"I've practiced," Rose said. "When we wrap up winter, ponies sometimes skate the ponds near Ponyville, to break up the ice. I'm not a performer or anything, but I think I know what I'm doing. Is it cold enough for ice already?" The restaurant, like his carriage, was comfortably warm inside. She hadn't shivered once during their meal so far.

"Not outside, but there's a... we're not really dressed for it anyway, so I thought of something better. The aquarium is open until midnight on Friday nights. They've got fish from all over the world. Or we could see a movie, but we can already do that at home."

She grinned back at him. Tracy was worrying again—he'd probably worry himself to death if she didn't intervene. 

Their waitress arrived with a pair of drinks. Rose sniffed at her own, eyes widening. "Today's special," she said. "Salads are on the way too." And she was off again.

Rose sniffed at her glass. There was the harsh smell of alcohol, but not nearly as unpleasant. It was tempered by a great deal of sweetness, in a distinctly familiar scent. She grinned at him. "I was wondering how long I'd go without seeing you eat these."

Tracy flushed red, putting down the orange drink before he could get the straw into his lips. "You are not going to tell me someone who comes from a world of hearts and rainbows is going to judge me for a girly drink. I'm driving, remember? This is as far as I go. And we'll be walking to the aquarium. It's only a block away, we could see it from where we parked. I'll be stone cold by the time we go home."

Rose rolled her eyes. Most of that hadn't made sense, though the tone of it was familiar enough. He was defending himself again. Janet was a little like that, too. These ponies act like they're constantly under attack. 

"Mangos," she said, sipping at the straw. Her eyes widened as she took in the barrage of sensations. The drink was ice, but somehow smooth. She could taste the alcohol, but it was also sweet. "Celestia this is fantastic.” She lifted the whole glass in her hand, downing half of it in a few quick gulps. She had to tell her sisters about this—they had ice cream you could drink!

Tracy glanced down at the menu, then back to her. "Oh, I guess so. Mango on Friday." He took his own glass, sipping casually at it.

Then he stopped, staring in shock down at the glass. He lifted the single chunk of yellowish fruit stuck onto the side in his fingers, popping it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, and didn't speak for almost a minute. "Change of plans," he said. "This is... We're stopping by the grocer on the way home, I know one open all night."

"I'm glad you two are enjoying yourselves," said their waitress. She settled a strange contraption between them—flatbread on one side, with little bowls filled with ingredients on the other. In the center was a jet of bright blue flame, and a hissing griddle surface. "You want seconds on those drinks? I could get the bar on them now."

"She can have another if she wants," Tracy said, almost mournfully. "Not me, I'm designated."

Rose nodded. "Please."

The human settled empty plates in front of them both. "I'll be right back."

"Feels like I'm missing something," Rose said, staring at the steaming cooking surface. "Why did she bring this here?"

"They're called fajitas," Tracy said, settling his glass down beside him with a kind of religious reverence. "We make them ourselves, it's part of the fun. I wasn't sure what ingredients you'd want in yours. But don't worry, I asked for it vegetarian. Even if I'd rather put chicken in mine."

She picked up one of the cups, gesturing towards him. "There's egg right here, Tracy."

"Didn't say egg," he said. "Chicken. That couple eating just over there—that's a grilled chicken breast. For Fajitas it would be shredded, seasoned, but it's the same thing."

She swallowed, putting her own glass down. It didn't matter how great it tasted, or how great the veggies in front of her smelled. She took a deep breath. "Like hippogriffs. You're omnivores."

He leaned across the table, taking her hand. "I hope that's okay."

She rolled her eyes again. "I've known pegasi who ate fish, and I already know you eat bugs. You're supposed to ask dumb questions after the alcohol, not before."

So maybe it was a little different than most restaurants she'd visited—usually they did the cooking. But Tracy tried his best, assembling their meal using finger-sized grippers and flatbread. The resulting mix of beans and veggies was unlike anything she'd ever tasted... but not bad. But the drink was better, sweet enough that she was happy to have a second.

That had the added benefit of easing her nerves, so that by the time they'd finished, she couldn't quite remember why being here had frightened her so much. Tracy still looked like her coltfriend, even on this side—and more importantly still acted like him.

"Here." He thrust an oversized jacket towards her as they left, though he didn't have enough arms to help her put it on. "It's not worth the fight of getting this back on, and you're in a dress. You need the warmth more than I do."

"Okay." She squirmed into the thing, a process made easier by its size. Yet another thing that their worlds shared in common—he was quite a bit taller than she was. "You said we're going to see fish? Daisy will never believe me. I'm not sure if she thinks I'll make it back."

"She still doesn't trust me? I don't have any secrets left, I'm not sure what she could be afraid of. I know you've gone snooping through my things."

He took her by the hand as they walked together, a gesture that seemed far more intimate than anything he'd done with Janet. While her own fingers went almost instantly numb in the cold, his were a source of warmth, just like the jacket.

"That's not quite true," Rose said seriously. "We're not sleeping together. Daisy thinks it's strange for any bat to act like that... too much like a unicorn."

Tracy's skin turned red again, though she couldn't imagine why. She was just telling him the truth.

"My arm's still broken."

She rolled her eyes. "So? Isn't your wing. You're not made of glass, Tracy. As my sisters will tell you whether you ask them or not, all the stallions I've dated were bats. I know your bones are hollow. I won't break any by accident, promise. You seem good at that yourself."

How much redder could he get?

Rose jerked suddenly, pulling away from him. "I understand!" she proclaimed, loud enough that a few other humans walking nearby turned to stare. "It's like the other taboo! Humans are scared of sex!”




> Chapter 49
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy wasn't sure what to expect from his first Earthside date with Roseluck. But then again, he barely knew what to expect from a date with someone he didn't know. Until now, he'd been friends with everyone he'd had a relationship with before they got together. There was nothing to discover when you had gone to school and knew the entire life-story of everyone remotely in your age bracket.

Occasionally he had to remind himself that Rose was decently similar in age to himself, or at least physical and mental maturity.

Going to the aquarium was almost a return to normalcy, though there'd been nothing half as exciting to do in Ely. The place was mostly visited by families and school groups, so the evening shift kept the aquarium almost deserted. That worked out fine for the two of them. There certainly wasn't any trouble a couple could get into while walking through dark, quiet hallways with only the fish to witness.

Fortunately he wasn't a teenager anymore, and he hadn't drunk enough to lose track of common sense. He did his best to redirect Rose's attention to the exhibits, which worked decently well. "They have so many colors!" she exclaimed, in front of one of the shallow reef exhibits. "I thought your world didn't have any interesting colors, but look here! Why do we look so similar?" She held out her arm, comparing it to his.

He shrugged. "Probably something about biology or the origin of species on our different worlds. There's more variety than just the two of us, but... it isn't as exciting as Equestria, you're right." 

He couldn't help but glance up and down the hall as he said it, feeling increasingly self-conscious. But there were only a handful of other visitors, and they all kept their distance. With the aquarium so empty, each group could basically have the whole thing to themselves. "Given our history, I think we're better off with the kinds of humans we have. You have us beat on that. But we have all these interesting fish."

He watched a bright orange clownfish dance around its pink anemone for a few seconds. But it just couldn't hold his interest the way his companion could. 

"What history is that? Do you have a Hearth’s Warming too?" Now it was her turn to shuffle around embarrassed. Of course that only made her seem more attractive, because basically everything did. She spoke quietly, like she was about to confide some critical secret to him. "Were your tribes at war too? I'm trying to figure out if it makes sense or not. Parts of this place are so different, but other things feel the same. I can't figure out the pattern."

"Yes," he said flatly. "I don't know what Hearth’s Warming is, but yes. We had 'tribal wars'. That's probably the right amount of detail. We should focus on something more fun. Anything else you want to know about my world?"

She let him take her arm, and lead them to another exhibit. Octopi this time, two of them swirling around inside a tank. They wrestled with a few shells, tearing them open before her eyes.

"You think there's enough space in there?" Rose asked, resting her free hand on the glass. She looked down the row, concerned. "This doesn't look much bigger than the last few tanks. But these are bigger animals. Whatever they are." 

"California Two-spot," he read from the card. "And... I have no idea. I don't know if they care."

She pulled away from him, suddenly enough that he stumbled for a step. He caught himself before he could fall over, resting his good arm against the fake stone wall.

Why the hell am I so clumsy all the sudden? I broke my arm, not my head. 

But Rose hadn't noticed, or being equally clumsy herself it didn't seem unusual to her. "I don't know very much about caring for animals," she began. "Plants are hard enough. But they're going crazy in there, can't you see? Tearing up their toys like that... we should tell someone. Maybe they didn't notice."

"I... okay." Tracy considered the request for a few seconds, trying to figure out a harmless way for Rose to voice her concerns. But would the aquarium even care? "But it might just be something they do, Rose. Maybe they like small spaces. Or maybe they like tearing shells apart."

Rose didn't seem happy with that answer, and this time she didn't let herself get distracted. "We should be able to leave a written complaint," he eventually suggested. "Just in case. But I really don't think it will be a big deal. They seemed healthy enough to me."

They didn't enjoy the rest of the exhibits, which were as new to Tracy as they were to Rose. Rather, they cut straight to the front of the aquarium, and Tracy had to ask a bored-looking young woman at the help desk where they could file a complaint.

"Is something wrong with your visit?" She sat up, looking between them. But whatever she was expecting, she didn't see it. 

"Nothing was wrong with your aquarium," Rose began. "I just wanted to tell someone about the... California Spotted octopus? I don't think they had enough space. They looked so miserable."

"Oh." Her expression faded back into annoyance. Whatever she'd been afraid of, they clearly weren't going to bring it. "I can give you a card to fill out, if you want. I'll make sure our lead naturalist gets it. What she does with it..." She shrugged one shoulder.

Rose took the complaint card, ignored the various blanks for the details of their visit, and started scribbling on it sideways. Tracy leaned over her shoulder, squinting at what she was writing. English, somehow. The Worldgate again. But is it translating, or do we just happen to share a language?

"Here." Rose proffered it across the desk moments later. "I don't know if it's anything to worry about or not, but it breaks my heart that those little creatures might be in pain."

At least it didn't sour the rest of the night. Rose didn't seem bothered by the other exhibits, though Tracy shuddered to consider what she might think of a cetacean exhibit. But there were no dolphin or otter shows after dark, so they didn't have to confront that particular aspect of the aquarium.

"Now no visit would be complete without a tour of the gift shop," he declared, gesturing inside. There was a shelf of stuffed animals against the far wall, several times higher than they were. It took only a few more seconds for Rose to notice.

At least he'd guessed one thing right. She squealed, nearly tripping over herself in her eagerness to reach them. "Who are all these for, Tracy?"

He followed, wincing at her volume. But if the single employee noticed, he didn't say anything. "Anyone who visits," he said. "You, if you want one."

"I would like a souvenir of our trip," she said. "It might be the only time I ever come out here. They're so cute!"

Tracy didn't quite make it to the back shelf. But there was something reflected in a mirror on a shirt-rack, something so strange that it brought him up short. He froze, looking back at himself in confusion.





His own reflection stared back, exactly the way he expected to look. I could've sworn there were wings in there. He took a few steps closer, pressing one hand to the glass, then turning to glance over his shoulder. Maybe there were stuffed bats? But no, the closest he could see were otters, and they couldn't imitate a set of wings.

As though summoned by his confusion, Tracy could've sworn his back started to itch, exactly where he imagined wings might be. But there weren't any, obviously. Because he wasn't a pony right now.

"I don't know what this is, but I love it." Rose stopped in front of him, hefting an oversized stuffed animal towards him. With only one hand he could barely lift the huge thing, enough to turn it sideways and see the price.

His old self balked at the insanity of spending a month's grocery money on a stupid stuffed shark with a cartoon grin and shiny plastic eyes. But that old self wasn't dating Roseluck.

"That's a great white," he said, handing it back. "They're the biggest predators in the ocean. Or... I guess that depends on your definition of predator, but they're big anyway. Thousands of pounds with razor-sharp teeth."

She grinned back at him, expression unphased. "Can we take it with us?"

"Sure." He could practically hear his wallet crying out in pain as they checked out with the gigantic stuffed toy. At least Rose didn't ask him to carry it. It wasn't heavy, but with one arm immobilized he just wouldn't know how.

"You realize how huge that thing is, right?" he asked, as they finally left the building behind. The aquarium grounds were practically deserted, with food stalls closed and the nearby pier empty. A few of the restaurants were still open, but not many. "I don't know what will happen to it when we bring it back. If it doesn't get any smaller, it'll be bigger than you are."

"That makes it a perfect souvenir," she declared, squeezing it with both arms. "Something as big and soft as you are, to remind me of my visit. With scary pointed teeth, so I remember everything. Parts of your world are cute, but other parts are dangerous."

They crossed back to the parking lot, and spent another few minutes figuring out how to get the stuffed toy into the trunk. "I can't say you've seen much of Earth yet," he said, as soon as they were settled back into the car. "But hopefully you had fun."

Rose reached over, taking his hand. She was clumsy at it, and didn't seem to know what she was doing with her fingers. But for only having a few hours in his entire world, it was a decent job. "I expected it would be scarier. You do things differently here, but... I didn't mind. Guess I was afraid over nothing."

She let go, and he pulled back onto the highway. The long commute was a worthwhile price in exchange for having somewhere interesting to take her. "Don't think our worlds are the same after this. I don't want—if something hurt you, I couldn't live with myself. Please don't come back here without me. There's lots we could do—I'd love to see how you look at the beach." 

The words were barely out of his mouth as he realized how absurd it sounded. "I'd look the same at the beach," she said. "We have those in Equestria too. But Ponyville is too far from the coast. 

The deep shadow of his car was enough to conceal the redness in his cheeks. But if she hadn't noticed, then he wasn't going to draw attention to it. "It's a little cold in the season to go anyway," he admitted. "Too cold to swim. Couples sometimes go for long walks. Only long walks I ever went on were through the desert. Never tried the beach before."

Rose looked thoughtful, settling back into her seat. But she didn't immediately strike down the suggestion, or remind him that she'd only promised to come here once. She watched silently for a few minutes, eyes on him more than the buildings and countryside passing outside.

"The carriage we're riding in..." she began. "Can anypony learn to use them? Or is it magic?"

He smiled back. "The car? Nothing magic here. It's a skill. I just got enough practice until eventually I could do it."

Rose reached across the car again, this time resting a hand on his shoulder. The undamaged one, mercifully. "I'll come back if you promise to teach me. How fast can it go?"

Tracy glanced into the rear-view mirror, scanning for unlit blue and red lights. When he didn't find one, he settled one foot squarely on the pedal, accelerating them rapidly past surrounding traffic. “I've done over a hundred in her a few times!" he yelled, over the rising roar of engine and wind.

Rose grinned back at him, eager. "You have to teach me!"
> Chapter 50
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy didn't quite fly his old car home—as much because of the potential legal dangers as the mechanical weaknesses of the old Civic. Accelerating towards the triple digits began a rattling sound that vibrated through the engines into his hand, making it quite clear just how dissatisfied the car was with his eagerness to show off.

He did take the promised detour to the grocer before stopping at home, both out of personal eagerness to grab a few real mangos, as well as a desire to let Rose see the variety for herself. After the drama with the octopus enclosure, he couldn't help but feel like he'd failed somehow.

Even if she'd confirmed her willingness to come back, he couldn't shake the feeling that at least part of the night would leave a negative impression. 

He was right about the supermarket, though he made sure to keep them in the produce section. God help him if she noticed the dark butcher's station in the back, and checked to see what was in the freezer.

She said she was okay with omnivores, but she still looked afraid. But Rose wasn't taking Everwake, and between the time difference and how long they'd been back, she was starting to wear down.

She fought it, filling their cart with a sampling of mostly vegetables that Tracy couldn't even name. "I don't know how many salads we can eat," he said, as they finally reached the front of the checkout. The cashier had to enter a code for each one.

"Salad isn't a dish, it's a category," she said flatly. Whatever the alien tolerance for alcohol might truly be, she sounded entirely sober now.  "This is amazing, Tracy! I've never seen so many things in the same season before! How can you have spring berries and winter squash at the same time?"

The cashier was an older man, a pair of cracked glasses barely clinging to his long nose. He rolled his eyes, but didn't comment, just kept entering codes as he packed Tracy’s reusable bags with fresh food.

"Infrastructure," he said, quietly. If there was one thing he'd learned about the differences between ponies and people, it was that ponies didn't really have a concept of "private" trips. Or at least Roseluck didn't. "Only the stuff from the green section was grown near here. Everything else came from far away. The citrus from Florida, those berries probably from Australia at this time of year. Bananas came from South America, apples from Washington..."

Rose's eyes widened with each word, like he'd just spoken the incantation to a spell. "And it can get here so quickly because of... cars, like yours?"

"You Amish or something, lady?" the cashier asked. "You sure it's okay to be out of your commune?"

Tracy stepped between her and the speaker, fiddling with his card. "She's from a very small town," he said, before Roseluck had the chance to answer. 

Soon enough they were back outside, loading more produce than Tracy had bought in a year carefully into the backseat of the car. 

"Getting it is only a few petals," Rose said, snapping the door closed. "We'll have to see how much of that is good. The farm your food comes from can be as important as the plant. But if even some of that is good... can we shop from your side more often? Strawberries in the middle of fall!"

He shrugged. A few months ago, he probably would've wanted to know how the budgeting side would work if he had to buy most of their food with human currency. But seeing her smile like that—Tracy found he didn't care, so long as she went shopping with him.

"Sure," he said. "But it might be hit and miss sometimes. The local farms only grow what's in season, same as anywhere. But the store will source the rest from far away. It might come from somewhere different in later weeks. I never really thought so much about my food, to be honest. But I rarely got more than some fruit from there anyway."

By the time they made it back into Equestria, the sun was well advanced towards afternoon, staining the windows deep orange. Tracy wanted to be more help bringing everything back inside, but mostly he just carried a single armfull at a time. 

Rose yawned as they brought the last of the bags into the kitchen, and she went through the produce with near-mechanical precision. Lots went into the fridge, and others to store dry in various boxes and bowls in the kitchen. However power worked in Equestria, it was scarce enough that their fridge was more like an old-style icebox, save that there wasn't anywhere to replace the ice.

Rose yawned wide, resting one hoof on the stuffed shark on their kitchen table. True to Tracy's fears, it hadn't changed when they brought it through the Worldgate, meaning it was about as long as he was, and now so heavy it was more like furniture than a toy. "Spark, was this whole thing a ploy to make me a bat? Feels like I should've been asleep hours ago."

Tracy twitched once as he heard the name, other thoughts forgotten. "Spark. The hospital nickname?"

Rose shrugged absently. "I don't have to use it if you don't want me to. At least I'm not wilting the pronunciation each time I try."

He watched her, thoughtful. When the hospital did it, he'd been convinced Discord himself was responsible, providing either the records or the intimidation to make the staff think he was an ordinary pony. But with Rose... maybe he could forgive her using another name. 

It did fit. "I guess it's fine. I might've tried harder to adopt a local alias when I moved in, but... I was still furious with Discord for tricking me. Guess I'm coming around on that now."

Rose met his eyes for a long moment, then gestured at the shark. "Help me get this upstairs? Cute as it is, I don't know if I want to show it off to houseguests. I can think of a place for it in my room."

"Sure. Don't have both hooves, but I'll try." As it turned out, he didn't have to do much. Rose helped him balance it on his back, then Tracy clambered sideways up the steps ahead of her, with the stuffed shark between them.

But with Rose on the bottom, she was the one dealing with most of the weight. The most Tracy had to do was open her door with a wing, and stop just inside. "Where did you want it?"

"Next to the bed." Rose gestured with one hoof, somehow keeping balance as she did so. "See those other stuffed creatures? We've just brought them a new princess."

It wasn't like this was Tracy's first time into Rose's bedroom. He'd seen her handful of stuffed toys before. There wasn't a scrap of clothing out of place, not a single horticulture book off the shelf.

Even the bed was perfect, its sheets partway opened on one side. The whole place smelled like Rose, a mix he would've affectionately described as a fusion of a well-loved flowerbed and an incredibly attractive young woman. 

"That's fine, right there!" Rose said. She dropped her end, and suddenly the weight against his shoulders increased. He grunted, but managed to roll to one side, letting the shark flop atop the pile beside a few different foxes and cats. Nothing with hooves, curiously. 

By the time he straightened, Rose was less than an inch from him, one hoof on his chest. "Hey, Tracy." She pronounced it correctly that time. "I think we both know how this night should end. Or... maybe start?" She slid past him, yanking a curtain across the window, plunging them into gloom.





Tracy's eyes adjusted in an instant. But that wasn't hard, when the hallway behind them still spilled in a single ray of yellow light. "You didn't need my help," he whispered, pawing at the shark with one hoof. "You've carried me up those steps without breaking a sweat."

"And the intrepid stallion solves the mystery." Rose slid past him, kicking the bedroom door shut. Now there was only the glow coming in from the Equestrian side. His eyes widened, adjusting rapidly. "I've been so patient with you. I did everything you asked."

She stopped beside him, nudging a wing with her mouth. It twitched and opened involuntarily, brushing along her back. "Now you're going to do who I ask."

"My leg," he stammered. But even he couldn't manage to make the excuse seem legitimate. "Not sure if I can even get these clothes off without help."

"I don't mind," she whispered from just beside him. "I can help with that."

Tracy had maybe ten seconds to reach the door. But his hooves didn't budge. He didn't want to get away. He didn't want to sleep alone anymore. 





As it turned out, Rose could help with that. And quite a lot of other things while she was at it.

Tracy wasn't sure exactly how long they were together, that first time. Long enough that the sunlight faded from under the curtains, plunging them together into near-darkness.

He probably wouldn't have slept at all, except for the Everwake. At that point, his own desires ceased to matter, and he slept. Soundly, beside someone he cared about.

Tracy woke to distant sunlight, shining across a distant hall. The world came back to him slowly, and what he saw didn't make sense. Since when was his bed so huge, why were there stuffed toys on the floor, who untucked all the sheets?

He yawned, twisting to one side, and finally sat up. The scent of it hit him all at once, practically reliving the night before in a few passionate seconds. 

The light he saw was coming from his windows. It was just that his window was on the opposite side of the hall, through two open doors. He was in Rose's bed.

Rose herself was nowhere to be seen, though the wreckage of both their outfits was still scattered on the floor. Shit. I slept with an alien. He tried to roll out of bed, then discovered just how many different ways he was sore. 

Knows I have hollow bones she says. Go easy on me she says. He limped out the bedroom more than walked, finding his broken leg hurt less than everything else. But despite the pain, he found himself smiling all the way to the bathroom. How much of that was afterglow, and how much the manic fear of someone who had just Captain Kirked a quadruped, he couldn't yet say.

What the hell am I thinking?

Tracy stared into the bathroom mirror. He looked dreadful—mane disheveled, restraint strap torn, and wings half splayed with residual soreness. Shouldn't I feel guilty about that? Shouldn't I regret it?

If he'd seen Rose's picture a year ago, he would've been repulsed by the suggestion of what he'd just done. That was the correct reaction, wasn't it?

That version of himself might still exist, if he crossed back into his world and became human again. But as long as she came with him... his dumb arm couldn't heal fast enough.

"You alive up there?" came Rose's voice, echoing up the stairs. She appeared in the bathroom doorway a second later, grinning at him. Where he looked like he'd been run over, Rose smelled like sunshine, and her mane was perfectly styled.

Tracy turned from his scathing reflection, and kissed his girlfriend, passion replacing the nervous shyness of the day before. "I'm working on an early breakfast downstairs," she whispered when they broke apart. They didn't stay far apart, though. "Midnight snack, maybe. It's a process."

"Process of..." he trailed off, lost in the scent of her. "What?"

She giggled. "Clean up, bat. It's daytime on your side. Don't you have work or something?"

The blissful glow in his brain faded to the background, replaced with a surge of panic. "Buck me." He had two weeks of work to do in the next four days.

"Maybe after breakfast," she said, leaving him alone with his reflection.
> Chapter 51
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few days were at once a source of anxiety and the best Tracy had felt in years. Anxiety because there was a veritable metric ton to be nervous about. Steven's terrified departure, Apex's entirely mundane corporate reaction to his injury, and Janet actually knowing the truth. 

And of course there was the (remote) chance that Shane's disappearance would prompt a detective to pay him a visit, and ask for the otherwise unremarkable privilege to step inside and have a conversation. Tracy had run that particular nightmare scenario to its conclusion more than once, imagining the refusal that led to a warrant and several angry police a few days later. Eventually they'd break down his door, stumble into Equestria, and only God knew what would happen after that.

But despite the menagerie of nightmares his emotions conjured, he found none of that manifested during the rest of his week working from home. He set up the new work computer, and spent as much time as he could slaving away to complete his and Steven's project.

Another few days later and the restraint could finally come off his leg, freeing him to use both of his front hooves in the helpfully-transformed keyboard and mouse he had half a year of practice operating.

Of course, Tracy wasn't willing to sacrifice time with Rose, but how then to do so much work with so little time? There was only one answer, and it came in little bottles at the back of his shelves. The only thing Tracy really had to sacrifice was his time sleeping with Roseluck. But when I go back to work, I'll have even less time with her.

She complained each morning that she didn’t like waking up alone—but if it meant they had more time together, a few complaints were all she made.

"You know you won't be able to keep this up forever," she said Friday morning, over another exotic dish she'd made from human produce garnished with mangos. Tracy found he didn't care much at all about the other ingredients, so long as she made correct use of a few critical sweeteners. "Seriously. I'm trying to figure out when you actually sleep. Bats don't actually need less than other ponies."

He nodded, pushing his laptop lid closed. A week ago, he didn't feel a thing about not telling her about the drug—it was his business, after all. But now they were together, she deserved to know.

"There's an explanation, but I don't think you'll like it. Promise not to be mad?"

She plopped his plate down in front of him with a harsh clang. "You just told me I wouldn't like it. Why would I promise that?"

He opened his mouth to make a clever reply—but none came. "You know I should've made you promise before I said anything. I'm, uh... I'm taking these." He wasn't dressed around the house anymore—lately it just got in the way. But he removed the emergency vial from his laptop bag, turning it so she could see.

Equestria lacked the pharmacy regulations that required medications to be properly labeled—either that, or Barnyard Bargains was doing things under the table. Given the list of things he could buy without doctor recommendation, he guessed the former. 

"What is that?" Rose asked, pulling the vial closer and sniffing at it. But of course the cork prevented any scent from escaping. "The alien from another world is taking potions?"

"Everwake," he supplied. "It—"

She jerked the bottle away, eyes narrowing. "Tracy, I've spent half my life with bats. I know what Everwake is. I've used it myself. That explains why I can't wake you sometimes. Even the hospital... you were crashing, weren't you? This stuff isn't meant to be used long term!"

He nodded, ears flattening. "Until this week, I wasn't using it long term. Just once or twice, same place I would've used caffeine. But it's stronger, so..." He reached across the table for the vial.

"Look, I know it's not ideal. But the way I see it, I'm down to two months on my lease. I can't give up working on my side, and that means I need to be up in the middle of your night. But if I sleep during the day like I used to, we can't spend time together."

"Not true!" She stalked around the table, settling the vial out of his reach on the top of a kitchen shelf. An entirely pointless gesture, since he had a box of those vials in his room. The laptop one was his emergency dose he planned on keeping with him on Earth. Couldn't take the risk of dropping comatose in the middle of a workday. 

"I've been with bats who lived bat schedules before. We make it work. I get up a little earlier to spend mornings together, and you stay up a little later to spend nights together. With the right balance, we can get four hours. Six on weekends, and no potion required."

"Six hours," he said. "Is that enough?"

She giggled. "We'll make it enough. Almost everypony works, Tracy. It's not like my sisters and I need you there every day. Just when those machines break down."

I'll have to order some replacement parts for when I'm gone. SBCs didn't have moving parts to fail, but if they had to last forever, he would need to think about that.

"Fine," he said. "I'll... when I have to go back to work, I'll transition to a normal schedule again."

"This weekend," she said. "You'll already need at least a day of sleep, if you've been on Everwake all this time."

"Next weekend," he said. "We don't get to have a new relationship twice. I'd rather spend more time with you now, even if it means giving up a whole weekend when I crash. I've already got the potion for that long anyway, no sense letting it go to waste."

She glowered up at him again, making it quite clear what she thought of that suggestion. But ultimately she didn't argue. "I'm just worried about you, Tracy. You're not from here. The other bats I've known, they knew what they were getting into with Everwake. But you won't. Your world doesn't have magic. You don't know what to expect."

All and all, it could've gone worse. Rose went to work, and Tracy could return to his labors. But thanks to having so many extra hours in the day, Tracy had a finished project to submit about halfway through the afternoon. Enough time to pursue something that had been bothering him.

First he'd seen it in the metal shelves of the aquarium gift shop, then his own rear-view mirror. Staying in Equestria full time hadn't left much opportunity to see that strange vision again.

If nothing else, his visits had given him profound respect for the library. Granted, it was hard not to be impressed with a place built in a crystal palace that towered into the sky.

He attracted almost no attention crossing town, other than friendly greetings from ponies whose names he was starting to learn. Half of them even tried at "Tracy".

Maybe I should just let everyone start using the local name on this side. No need to lie about it, just start going by it to make things easier for them. It wouldn't be the first time an immigrant had to change to integrate into the dominant culture.

But I'm not the immigrant, Shane is. He's the one who has to live here permanently, not me.

He found the library without needing to ask for directions, and walked straight up towards its upper chamber with no need to read the signs. He slowed as he stepped in, expecting to ask the friendly dragon for help as he had during his previous visits.

He hadn't expected to find the princess herself reading from a desk.

He stopped dead in the doorway, spreading his wings to slow as quickly as he could. Tracy glanced nervously over his shoulder, and began inching back out the way he'd come. Unfortunately, he wasn't wearing sneakers. Or... anything else, for that matter. His hooves clicked several times on the crystal floor, and Princess Twilight looked up.

"Oh, hello there—" She stopped, expression becoming unreadable. "Tracy, I believe. What brings you to the library, Otherworlder?"

He winced, then walked straight in. No sense trying to get away at this point. "Sorry, princess. I'm sure it's not worth your time. I was just looking to see if Spike could help me find a book. He's usually... where you're sitting."

She nodded, and the book in front of her snapped closed, settling onto the pile. "This used to be my responsibility, several years ago. Sometimes it's good to get back to your roots. Besides, helping ponies find the things they're looking for can let me know what's happening in Ponyville. So I can better serve my subjects."

And you do not want to think of me as one of those. Tracy had a few seconds to decide whether or not to tell the truth. It wasn't just that she was an Alicorn with personal powers—she was involved in the diplomacy of this world, somehow. She might even be connected to Discord bringing him here in the first place.

But he didn't show up to stop Tracy. That probably meant it was safe enough. "I'm looking for information about... I don't even know." He looked away, wings opening and closing awkwardly. "I shouldn't waste your time with something that probably can't even be answered. I'm sorry."

He turned to go, and found Twilight already standing in the doorway.  She spread her wings, blocking it. "That's not how my library works, Tracy. I don't send ponies away empty-hooved. You've come for knowledge, so providing it is my sacred duty. What book were you looking for?"

"I don't even know there is a book about it," he stammered, backing away from her. His rear bumped into the circulation desk, and he stopped. "Maybe something written by someone else who spent a long time in other worlds. It's just that... I've started seeing things, while I'm on my side. I'm trying to figure out what they are."

He expected hostility from her, but to his surprise Twilight only looked thoughtful. She vanished from in front of him, reappearing behind the desk in a flash of white light and disorientation. "I assume what you saw was unusual, or you wouldn't be looking for information about it. What exactly are you seeing in your home universe?"

"Wings," he said awkwardly, opening both of his as wide as they would go. "I'm not a bat on that side, or a pony at all. But my reflection—I see wings. But only when I'm not looking directly at it. If I stare, they're gone."

Twilight didn't call him crazy, or shout him out of her library. "Hmm. Persistent Worldgate travel. Well Mr. Tracy, you're in luck. I've been doing a great deal of research into your case. Not this specifically. But this may tell us both more we wanted to know. Wait here."

She vanished again, and this time didn't pop back up anywhere close by. She left him standing in front of the desk for several awkward minutes. He shuffled on his hooves, wishing he'd come another day. The dragon wouldn't put him through all this.

"Here!" Twilight reappeared in a flash, depositing a pile of books in front of him easily twice her height. It wobbled, then began glowing purple, and didn't fall. "This is what I've been reading."

Tracy stared up at the mountain of books. And up, and up. They had indecipherable titles, dense with jargon he didn't understand. But all he had were wings, so he'd never really had the inclination to study magic. "Something about Worldgates is in there?"

Princess Twilight rolled her eyes. "Everything we know about worldgates is in there. I've been collecting these from libraries all across Equestria. I've been trying to figure out the answer to a few questions. Why did Discord choose you specifically? What does he hope to gain?  The one pony who could tell me says she can't answer yet, but she will when it's over."

Twilight's eyes narrowed. "I'm afraid you may be implicated—however involuntarily—in a scheme against Equestria."

Those words hung in the air between them like a set of daggers, all pointed at his chest. But at least she didn't leave them there for long. "Or it could be something else. Princess Celestia insists that Discord is properly reformed. I hope she's right. But if he is, that only leaves more questions. Why you?"
> Chapter 52
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy lifted one of his wings, shuffling awkwardly. "I don't mean to sound impolite, but that doesn't sound very related to what I saw. There are bat wings in the mirror, Princess. When there shouldn't be. I've had one of my coworkers call me a demon, and I'm afraid he might be right."

Twilight's horn glowed, and the books began sorting themselves into smaller piles. Without even looking at them she guided each one into a different stack, until they covered the desk and every nearby table too. "It's my understanding that Equestria has grown beyond such insensitivity," she said, voice low. "If anypony in my town is still using language like that, so long after Luna's return... I need to know. They need some remedial friendship lessons."

What? Tracy's confusion only grew, rapidly equaling his wish that Spike had been here instead. But the dragon was nowhere to be found, just as he had no obvious escape from the angry princess. "No one in Ponyville," he said. "Your town has been great to me. I'm talking about things I see in my world, through the Worldgate. Reflections that aren't there."

Twilight relaxed. "If that's all it is, then I'm relieved. I'm the Princess of Friendship first, Tracy. Magic second. But if it isn't a friendship problem, then... I may have a theory. I don't know that it answers my own questions, unfortunately. But at least one of us will walk away knowing more."

She took a deep breath. "You've been living in another world for almost a year now. The only creatures who ever remained longer were those banished from their homes forever. From what I've learned about the place you came from, your home doesn't have much magic, isn't that true?"

He nodded. "None at all. Or at least so little that most people never see it. I never saw any until I came here."

A chair levitated across the room towards him, stopping just beside him. "Well then, Tracy. You may want to sit down for this."

He did, dread building in the back of his mind. "Whatever you're thinking, Princess... you should just tell me."

"Magic tends to grow," she said. "You can stamp it out, ruin friendships, try to crush it. But if you don't, it will grow. I think you may've been in Equestria long enough that our magic has started changing you." 

She gestured towards his flank with one wing. "That cutie mark—the visitors you brought here didn't have them, do you remember? Those marks are important to ponies—they tell us our special talents, and where we fit into Equestria's Harmony. Do you believe in fate, Tracy?"

"No," he snapped, without hesitation. "Can't have fate with free will. Either it's my choice or it isn't. I have to believe I have a choice."

She smiled weakly at him—the first time she'd smiled during the entire conversation. "We can have both, otherworlder. But that's a conversation for another time. I'm afraid there are no books to check out to you—you're one of only two examples I've ever seen. A creature from a place without magic, joining a world that does. Books will be written about this encounter, no matter how it ends."

"So you think I'm fated to... what, exactly?"

She shrugged, and the wilderness of books vanished from around her. "Can't say. But you wanted an explanation, and now you have one. You can't spend all this time around magic without consequences. My guess is you're bringing it back with you to wherever you came from."

It made about as much sense as any theory he'd considered so far. Somehow bringing leftover magic back across to his world. "So if your theory is right, how do I make it stop? Seeing reflections is one thing, but what if it started happening for real?"

Twilight shrugged. "I told you. Magic grows, and friendship makes it stronger. Deeper relationships foster more powerful magic. From what I hear. Of course Love is the strongest friendship of all. If you want magic gone, the only choice you have is to stay away. Leave Equestria, let your friendships wither. Eventually even the strongest magic can be erased that way."

You know about that too? He tensed, but didn't argue with her. Rose's sisters probably... half the town already knew we were dating. "I can't do that." And I wouldn't, even if the lease let me move out tomorrow.

The princess's smile widened. "Then come back to me in two months, and we'll finish this conversation about destiny."

She left him then, feeling no wiser about the fears that drove him. He could think of nowhere else to go for answers, except maybe Discord. But he'd already tried that, and only got a cold "Your lease expires in two months," message in reply.

He visited the flower stand on the way home, as much for an evening snack as a chance to make sure his girlfriend was doing okay. 

There were no more nightmares that day—after all, he was already in Equestria. Here he'd had wings for so long that being anything else would be unbelievably strange.

To his surprise, Tracy found a message waiting on his phone when he finally returned home, from one of the few names that didn't go straight to his ignore list. It was Janet.

"I'd like to talk about the Emmerson project you just submitted before work today. Can I come over? I'd like to do it at your place."

Under any other circumstances, he might've thought she was coming onto him. But that would've made it the first he'd ever had that kind of attention from Janet, who had always acted more like a protective guardian for her staff. 

"In my place?" he sent back. "You know where that is?" He wasn't asking about address, and he didn't need to say so.

"Yes. I need to see for myself. I'll swing by Krispy Kreme on my way over, ask your girlfriend if she wants anything."

Rose got home a few minutes later, smelling somewhere between perfume and sweat. But the latter was no longer unfamiliar to Tracy, or even remotely off-putting. "Wait, don't make dinner," he said, blocking her way into the kitchen.

"And let you poison us again?" She pushed him aside with a hoof, grinning. "We talked about this, Spark. A pile of leaves isn't a meal. I cook, you clean. Simple."

"It's not that." He rested one hoof on hers, stopping her from opening the fridge. "It's my boss, Janet? She wants to come over before work. About a half hour from now, if I had to guess."

Roseluck looked up, meeting his eyes. "Another visitor from your world. This one coming in here intentionally?"

He nodded. "It's important. She's not just the only reason I got the job, she also has the power to destroy me, if she wants. If she thinks Equestria is evil, I think she'll do it."

But she hasn't yet. My login credentials still work, and I got my paycheck on Thursday as scheduled. Didn’t even take any hours away for time spent sick.

"Then I'll have to make something," Rose said. "How do we make sure she doesn't..." She trailed off, expression darkening. "Destroy you? Does that happen a lot in your world?"

"Not usually," he admitted. "But she hasn't done it yet, even after seeing the Worldgate. I think she'll be cool about it once she gets a look around."

They wouldn't have to wait long to find out. This time Tracy went out alone, with a single sweatshirt to keep off the harshest that a San Jose "winter" could throw at him. For a few seconds he stood motionless on the porch, struggling to mentally reconcile the presence of a sunrise while the world behind him was experiencing its own sunset.

He'd been right about timing too—Janet pulled up less than two minutes after he stepped out. She got out, a dozen doughnuts in hand. She looked the same as last time, except that she had her cross prominently on the outside of her jacket.

How she wasn't baking alive with a fleece jacket and scarf like that, he couldn't guess. "Cast and brace are gone," she said, stopping about ten feet down the path from him. "Guess you're healing well?"

He nodded, flexing the formerly-injured arm. "Can't put much weight on it, and it's a little stiff. But it's strong enough to use again, and that's what counts." He hesitated, staring at the box she carried. "I can smell those from here. You really did get them fresh."

She nodded. "Drove through on the way over, just like I said. Now, how do we do this? Going into..." She glanced up at the apartment door. It was open behind him, though the inner door was shut this time. The coats and shoes hanging in the entryway wouldn't fit a human, but it would take more than a cursory glance to tell something was wrong.

"Just walk across," he said. "If you're sure you want to talk on that side. We could go over the project out here if you wanted. My neighbors probably aren't even up yet." 

She closed the distance between them in a few angry steps, shoving the box into his arms. "If it was just about the Emmerson project, I would've done it over the phone. We lost Steven, Tracy. He took severance, and he's going home. I don't know what's going on here, but I need to know it isn't... I need to know this isn't for the other side.

"If it is... I'm going to ask you politely to resign, just like Steven. Nice and civil."

He didn't have to guess what “other side” meant. Before moving in, it was the kind of emotional fervor that would've made him break down laughing. But after everything he'd seen—did he know she was being paranoid?"

"It's not," he said flatly. "On the other side of that door is the nicest, kindest place you've ever seen. The town on their side is ruled by a deadass 'Princess of Friendship.' Pretty sure if there were any real demons over there, they'd burst into flames just by trying to walk around."

Janet didn't falter. "I need to see that for myself. I'll know evil when I see it."

Tracy turned towards the doorway. "Then walk straight through and don't stop. I told Rose you were bringing some breakfast stuff. She knows one place still open this late that we might be able to get a few more. But rather than going ourselves, we thought... I guess you'll just have to see it for yourself."

By now, Tracy had seen far too many people make this transition—probably more than the lease intended. There was no reason to anticipate anything particularly unusual. If anything, he was most interested to see what would happen to a pantsuit when it crossed from one universe to another.

Janet didn't linger by the threshold, leaning back and forth and debating internally the way his friends from home did. She marched right past him, crossing from one world into another.

The actual transition was a blur, just as it had been on the first trip through. He saw feathers and a flash of claws, then she was on the other side.

There would be no having a conversation between worlds. Tracy followed, tossing the box into the air so he could catch it between his back and his wings on the other side. He nailed the transition perfectly, balancing the box on his shoulders as he slid past Janet to open the door.

He hadn't been imagining things, Janet wasn't a pony. Her face was narrower, with an avian beak and a pair of gold eyes. She had a mane and tail in the same places, but those were blue and green feathers, not fur. Her coat looked the same though, and from the waist she looked like a pony.

A pony wearing a pantsuit, looking like she might topple over sideways at any moment. 

"Welcome to my apartment," he said, pushing the door open in front of her. "And, I suppose, welcome to Equestria."




> Chapter 53
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy kept well behind Janet as she walked into the house. She had the benefit of transformed clothing that provided practical modesty—his didn't. He didn't get to see her face as she stopped in the doorway, staring across the room at the open windows to main street.

Brilliant orange light shone in from outside, reflecting off the windows and filling the room with painful glare. Rose emerged from upstairs, still damp and smelling like shower. Also completely naked, though that would be less immediately apparently to his human guest from the front. "Janet, right? Tracy didn't tell me you were a hippogriff!"

"I'm a... what?" she finally stammered, glancing over her shoulder at him. She lifted one claw up towards her face, flexing the strange hybrid-talon fingers one at a time. "I guess I'm Buckbeak now. How many franchises do you have in here, Tracy?"





He shrugged, twisting to slide the doughnuts up onto the table. "If we're quick, we can make it to Sugarcube Corner. I figured we could get something local to go with the doughnuts you brought. A thoroughly unhealthy breakfast."

"Doesn't look like breakfast over here." Janet walked past them both, touching one claw to the window. She looked back at the shut door, then outside again. "How is this... this town can't be here. I missed your turn the first time. I've seen the next street over."

"It's called a Worldgate," Tracy said, opening the front door beside her. "Come on. Bakery is just around the corner."

"Sure." But she didn't move at first, instead removing the necklace from over her shoulders. Unlike the rest of her clothes, it hadn't changed at all, meaning the chain was a little long, the cross a little too big. She held it towards Rose. "Could you touch this for me, please? You too, Tracy. Indulge me."

He managed to do it without rolling his eyes, reaching out and touching the edge with a hoof. "Happy?"

"Her too," she continued. "I know where you're from. But she's from this side, right?"

Rose stopped within reach, looking increasingly concerned. "What kind of custom is this, Tracy?"

Paranoia. But how could he explain that without offending Janet? "She's searching for evil," he said. "The same way you did when I moved in, remember? Different tool, same goal."

Janet nodded once, apparently satisfied with that explanation. "I admit, I'm feeling a little disarmed already. But pink glass and heart decorations outside aren't going to trick me."

Roseluck lifted a hoof, running it along the cross. There was no visible effect—no demonic screams or spontaneous flames, anyway.

But it was enough to make Janet relax, settling the necklace back under her collar. "Alright. That's... that's something. Where did you say we were going?"

"It's called Sugarcube Corner," he said. "It was one of the first places I fell in love with, since they make recognizable food. It should give you a feel for what Ponyville is like. That's... the name of this town, by the way."

Janet stifled a laugh. "Ponyville? As in... what, Personville? Humanplace?"

Roseluck chuckled. "You say that, but it makes more sense than 'Ely'. I'm still trying to figure out what kind of place that would be."

They didn't all go—ostensibly, Janet would use the time to catch him up on what he'd missed over the last week, and some of it would be NDAed company stuff. Practically speaking, she spent almost the entire trip staring open-mouthed at everything and everyone they passed.

Sometimes she managed a feeble question or two, but nothing more complex than, "They don't wear a lot here, do they? I'm seeing a lot of..."

"Junk," he answered quietly. "Yeah, it takes some getting used to. But at least they don't mind if you want to wear more."

"Whether that makes it satanic or Edenic, I reserve judgement," Janet muttered. She sounded different here, more than any of his friends had. It must be something about having a beak, though he couldn't quite place the change. Higher, more clipped somehow. "I don't know what I expected when I accepted your internship application, Tracy. But it wasn't this."

They stopped seconds later, with Sugarcube Corner directly ahead of them. 

Even for Equestria, the structure was one of the more absurd things he'd ever seen, like something modeled for a Disney theme-park. But unlike the theme parks, he couldn't quite shake the impression that the gingerbread and frosting on the roof might be real. The candle-shape lights on the roof were already on, though mercifully the interior was still bright. They'd made it.

"You're kidding me," Janet said. "I am not seeing this right now. I'm not... surrounded by thatched roofs and pink windows, and naked horses. Now there's a cupcake house."

If you had any idea. He didn't want to walk past her, or else risk her seeing more than she probably bargained for. "You can wait out here while I grab some muffins, if you want. Probably won't be super fresh at the end of the day, but... that's just something you have to get used to. Time on this side is the opposite of Earth." 

"I'm not waiting outside," she insisted, hurrying past him towards the still-open entrance. "Might as well see the inside for myself."

Nothing particularly remarkable happened inside, which was exactly what he'd been hoping for. They exchanged polite words with Mrs. Cake, and Janet even managed not to laugh at her name. They bought some nearly-stale muffins for half price, at least three different ponies wished Janet welcome to Ponyville, and they were back out the door heading home.





She didn't say a single word during the walk back, barely even looked at him. Only when they'd finally shut his front door behind them did she turn. Whatever her new species was, it didn't have quite the same emotional tells as a pony. But the scent was recognizable enough for him to guess. 

"Steven was on the edge of sanity after seeing you," she said. "Even after a week of counseling, he wouldn't come back to work, for fear that he'd be working with you again."

Tracy slid the second box onto the table beside the first. There was already a few doughnuts. He resisted the urge to take one of his own better than Rose had.

"But now that I'm here for myself..." She slumped onto her haunches. "I almost wanted him to be right, Tracy. There's nothing thrilling about designing parts. But fighting evil, I almost convinced myself there might be some evil here. Probably says something uncharitable about me that I'm disappointed there isn't."

She glanced out the window. Ponies made their cheerful way home, wishing friendly farewells to their neighbors as they did. Tracy knew more of their names than the coworkers he met during their "optional" bar night.

 "There doesn't have to be anything evil for it to be thrilling," he supplied, finally daring to take a doughnut for himself. "Equestria, that's the name of the country—it has its own history, its own sports and myths and cultures. Not to mention what you gain by coming here." He spread his wings as he said so, grin widening. "Remember the arm I broke hiking? Actually it was learning how to fly. You have wings too—that means you could learn, if you wanted."

Janet didn't answer for a long time. Finally she turned, rising from the window. "I told you it didn't say anything good about me. You're right, everything about this is better than the alternative. As much as it sucks to lose Steven over something like this. I still... can't quite believe what I'm feeling."

She stopped beside the table, taking a muffin in her claw. She lifted it, then squeezed a little too hard, and it crumbled away in her talons. 

Tracy couldn't quite decide if he was jealous of the almost-fingers, or just glad that he didn't have to type with knives on his hands. "It took me a few weeks," he admitted. "Every time I came home from work, I thought I'd find a normal house here. I obviously imagined this. You're going to think that too. In fact... got your phone? No, wait, you might scratch it."

He fiddled with his own, already waiting on the table. He opened the camera, then slid it towards Rose. "Remember how to use the camera?" he asked. "Janet should have a picture to remember this."

"You're kidding me," the hippogriff protested. But she still posed beside him. It was strange to see someone a full head shorter than himself on Earth be about that much taller than he was on this side. If you're that tall, how big are the stallions?

"Right there!" Rose exclaimed. "Err... I think? It made the sound. But there's no bulb, so I can't tell."





"How did you do that with hooves?" Janet asked. "Are there tentacles, or..."

Rose giggled in response. "I don't know what you think we are, but no. Nopony I've ever met had tentacles."

"I don't know how they do it either," Tracy muttered. He had to set the phone back on the kitchen table, using his usual stylus to text the image to her. Only when he heard the vibration from one of her pockets did he put it down again.

"And now you'll have proof. When you leave and think this must've been a dream, you can look for yourself."

Janet nodded, then closed the distance between them in a few quick strides. She rested one claw on his shoulder, though thankfully she didn't squeeze. He could feel the sharpness against his coat without her using any force. 

"I'm not going to tell you that living in another world is more important than Apex," she said. "And don't you dare tell anyone in Management I said that, or I'll deny it. But I have to know—how does this end? Engineer by day, horse by night? Or are you not gonna show up to work one day, and only I will ever know where you went?"

From Janet's other side, Rose locked eyes with him. Obviously she wanted that answer too, but for completely different reasons. Could he avoid disappointing both?

"How I ended up here is a story for another day," he said. "But my lease is one year. I can't leave early, and I can't renew. When it ends, it ends. The Worldgate closes, and this house goes back to being normal. Whatever passes for normal in San Jose, anyway."

Janet let go, glancing back out the window again. "I can see why you didn't run screaming from all this. Maybe you never will." She lifted another muffin in her claw, and this time managed to take a bite without crumbling it. "Pretty good. Little too sweet." She turned for the door. "Anything special I should know about leaving this place? I don't have to... recite any incantations or anything?"

Tracy followed her to the exit, leaving the inner door open behind them this time. "No. Just go quick, don't hesitate on the boundary. And I'll have to shut the door quick behind you, so nobody looks in."

They stopped just in front of the door. Despite her complaints, Janet took another few bites of the muffin.

"Can't help but notice we didn't talk about the Emmerson project," he said. "Do you like my design? I tried to keep the complexity down. But the grooves in the mounting mechanism, we need those. It's a fabrication thing, if—"

Janet silenced him with a gesture. Somehow she could grin at him, even with a beak. "If you weren't good at your job, I wouldn't need to work this hard to keep you on my team. Look at where we're standing right now. Part's fine. Make sure you bring the laptop back to work with you on Monday, you can keep the dock here."

She turned, leaning past him. "It was nice meeting you again, Rose! Sorry if I wasn't very friendly. I don't usually visit other worlds before lunchtime."

"No problem," Rose called back, another doughnut in her hooves. "Come back anytime."

"Don't know if I will," Janet muttered. She looked up again, through the doorway towards distant windows. "Feels like someone could get lost in all this. See you Monday, Tracy."

She left, practically jumping out the door, and slamming it closed behind her.
> Chapter 54
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy meant to get off the Everwake that weekend. It wasn't just the smartest choice anymore, now he'd promised Rose. She was right about the dangers, and even more she didn't know. What would happen if he ran out while driving? Or worse, what if he kept using it until his lease ended, and had to sleep the next few months of work away?

But Sunday was Halloween—Nightmare Night to the ponies. He couldn't possibly spend the holiday asleep! He couldn't use Saturday to recover either, not when that was one of the last big days of the flower season.

"It's all greenhouse from here on," Rose said, pouring over the ledger screen. "After Nightmare Night, we only open for breakfast and a few days before Hearth’s Warming. All these bits mean we don't have to take loans to survive until spring. Or sell the store, or the house, or..."

Tracy wrapped one wing around her shoulder, pulling her away from the screen. "You don't have to justify it. I'm just impressed you can make it work at all."

She nuzzled up against his neck in one of her usual affectionate gestures. "After this weekend, there won't be as much for me to do. While my parents were still alive, we used to use the winter season to travel far from here, bringing in exotic flowers to grow for next year. But there's not enough here for anything that exciting."

She turned, grinning up at him. "Could we ride in that carriage of yours some more? That was so... fast."

Anything that would get her to come back to Earth was a win in his book. Too bad he didn't have any family to take her to meet anymore. I wonder what my sister would've said about all this.

Evie would probably be happy that he was with someone. Was two months enough time to convince Rose to stay on his side when the lease expired?

No, because she still has a family here. Unless there are other Worldgates we don't know about, it wouldn't be right. I have nothing to lose, she does. But however much the guilt gnawed at him, Tracy thought about it more than once. He had his dream job. If he could somehow walk away from all this with his dream girl as well, he'd be the one sending Discord a card.
 
It was amazing how much Equestria and Earth had in common with their holidays, even if their origins couldn't be any further apart. But Nightmare Night came, and he could barely even tell the difference. If anything, Ponyville took the holiday more seriously than Earth did, and almost everyone he saw was in costume. 

Even Rose, who'd been so taken with her viewing of Nightmare Before Christmas that she decided to make a costume in the style of one of the characters. Or maybe it was just that using body-paint to draw stitching and discolor parts of her coat was easier than making something.

But just because he couldn't remember the name of the character didn't mean that Rose didn't take her costume seriously. So seriously, in fact, that he felt another fresh wave of guilt. "You can't really be planning to go without a costume!" Rose said, emerging from the bathroom a few hours before nightfall and poking her head into his bedroom.

Now that he didn't use it for sleep anymore, Tracy had transformed the space into more of an office, with room to store his clothes. More and more of those had migrated into Rose's room, but not all of that was his fault. 

"It's more of a kid thing on Earth..." he began. That excuse worked until he turned, and stared right into the face of all her hard work. He'd helped with some of that paint, but only the parts she couldn't reach. Rose had done most of it herself, and even sewed the patchwork dress. "You know nobody is going to recognize that costume."

Rose nodded eagerly. "It's not just a goat thing on our side. Here everypony does it. There are games all up and down main street, you can see them already setting up outside. Once they're all asleep, then ponies break out the cider. You won't let me dance alone, will you? Nightmare Night is a bat's most important holiday."

Six months ago he would've sent her away with a little sarcasm and an unfriendly reminder that he only looked like a bat. But he was a different person now—a better one. Besides, he needed little cajoling to go anywhere with her.

He snapped the laptop lid closed, then turned. "I haven't dressed up in a long time. If I knew it mattered that much, I would've prepared a costume too. Are you sure I can't, like... just go as a bat? There aren't that many of us in Ponyville, that's exotic. Or maybe I could just throw on some clothes at random and say I'm someone from another world. Does that count as a costume?"

Her pout of indignation was all the answer he needed on that score. But she didn't look upset for long. "I figured this might happen," she said, pacing slowly around him, expression deadly serious. "You said you had the same holiday, but that didn't mean you would celebrate it the same way. You're from another world."

He nodded. "That's... clever. Are you saying you planned for this?"

She smiled slyly, then continued as though she hadn't heard him. "There's the boring options of course. You could just go as a night guard, but that's really boring. It also risks Princess Luna picking Ponyville this year. She's done it before, so don't put it past her."

"I don't know what that would mean. But she was good to my friends, so I wouldn't want to disrespect her." Also I'm low-key terrified she might actually be able to do the things you people tell stories about. 

"The other end of the insane spectrum is going to Discord or poison joke for a costume."

"Wait—" He got up, walking slowly over to the window and squinting outside. As the season wore on, more and more of their nights overlapped. Curious how that change seemed to happen at the same pace in both worlds. "Discord—our landlord, the demon? He sells costumes?"

She shrugged. "Costumes is one word for it. Don't get me wrong, you'd get something great, his work never disappoints. But it doesn't always wear off the next day. Still, if you want something really convincing—and you don't mind whatever he turns you into. At least you'll make an impression."

Tracy spread both wings, taking a single step back. "He already turned me into this, and I'm still getting used to it. Besides, I'm not sure breaking my leg was enough getting even from him. Let's... let's not do that."

She didn't seem disappointed with his reaction, despite the denial. "I'm sure doing that would make for a Nightmare Night you never forgot. But you're already living in two worlds at once, that's so much more than most ponies could manage. Since it might be the only Nightmare Night you ever get, we have to make it count."

There was no missing the pain when she said it. But what was he supposed to tell her, that he changed his mind and was ready to abandon his whole world? He wasn't Shane. 

"I appreciate that," he said. Close to the lamest possible response he could give. But it was honest, and that mattered just as much. "You can just go out and say it, Rose. You have a costume for me. What is it?"

She giggled, then took his hoof and dragged him across the hall. There was no danger of their contact devolving into anything unchaste this time, not with all that body paint. He could be patient until she asked for help washing it off.

"You know I've spent a long time with bats," she said. "Not quite so far as going to Echo, of course. By sacred tradition only thestrals and their formally married mates are allowed. But it was still enough to learn your history. Or... their history, that you've inherited? I don't know, is this awkward?"

She stopped in front of her closet. It wasn't mostly empty like his—somehow, she managed to fill it with hangers and clothes, despite spending almost all her days naked. There were some mysteries men were simply not meant to solve.

"Yes," he said. "But the last time I met real bats, they tried to bring me to that... Echo Caverns. I'm sure they'd want me learning more about... What do you have in mind, exactly?"

She began removing things from the closet, settling them onto the bed one at a time. As usual with pony outfits, nothing he saw here would do much for his modesty, even all taken together. But the last week had helped him give up on that taboo more than months of awkward glances and requests from townsponies about what formal function he planned to attend.

"I have no idea what I'm looking at," he said, when she'd finally finished. Like the robes of a medieval monk had been slashed into pieces and accentuated by seemingly purposeless toolbelts. "Who was this pony, exactly?"

"Star Drift," Rose declared. "Legend says he led the ancient thestrals to Equestria from a far country." Without prompting or permission, she picked up the lowest layer of the costume and tossed it over his back. "Drift the navigator. Drift the dreamwalker."





Tracy held still while she worked, though the urge to squirm free grew stronger every second he stood there and with every belt she tightened. "I can see why you're a fan. Where did these thestrals come from, exactly?"

She grinned wider. "That's the mystery. Ponies think it must be somewhere in the south. But every bat I've ever known insists they're from much further away. Their world was dying, just like the home of ponies before Equestria. Only instead of freezing, theirs was burning. But I have my theories, thanks to you. Isn't it obvious? They must've come from where you did! Or... at least somewhere a lot like it. It's the only answer that makes sense."

He didn't have the heart to start poking holes in it. He might look like a bat right now, but what did that prove? If he thought species in Equestria could be traced to a chain of ancestry, his friends had ruined that theory. They were all from the same town, descendants of the same original settlers. Yet they all looked different. Janet wasn't even a pony!

"I don't know enough to decide for myself," he said, the most diplomatic response he could manage. "But you could be right. If I ever see thestrals again, I could ask them."

Rose was just about done with the costume. With each piece in place, it did a better job making him look like an explorer. The almost-boots behind him did resemble the way pants sometimes transformed through the Worldgate. But it was probably nothing.

Rose slipped something off her shelf, settling it onto the bed in front of him. "Or you could do a little reading. But don't tell the princess I still have this, because technically it's a library book. From the, uh... from Golden Oaks."

She looked away, voice becoming solemn and distant. But before he could ask more, she dragged him over to the mirror, and posed behind him. "Now that is a costume. Not couples', but I don't think you would've looked good as a skeleton anyway. Maybe next Nightmare Night."

He didn't argue the point. "I'll join you downstairs in a minute," he said, gesturing for her to go on without him. "Just got to take care of something for work really quick."

A lie, sort of. There was no one even at work right now, and he wouldn't be getting new assignments until he came in tomorrow. But Rose didn't question.

As soon as her hoofsteps had faded down the stairs, he lifted aside the photo concealing his box of little vials. He uncorked the Everwake with his teeth, then downed it in a single gulp.

He felt no more disorientation anymore, no brief burning in his throat. Tracy straightened, tossed the empty vial into the bin, then went down to enjoy the party.
> Chapter 55
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nightmare Night in Ponyville was basically what Tracy was expecting. The entire town had been decorated overnight in simultaneously adorable and ineffective holiday trappings. These included plenty of fall colors, and flowers from the flower stand. The crowd waiting outside wasn't nearly what he'd experienced at the spring festival, when visitors from distant parts had come to experience the local culture. Rather, it was clear that only Ponyville locals would be celebrating tonight. 
 
Yet the cultural differences were visible from the very beginning. This holiday wasn’t just for children. It seemed like almost everyone made a decent attempt at a costume, and plenty of them were even recognizable to him. Tracy could only wonder at the strange factors that would allow an alien planet to have similar myths of vampires and werewolves and other creatures. Likewise, the natives seem to have the same desire to be scared. Several buildings had been redecorated into makeshift haunted houses, though of course they had some silly pun names instead. 
 
While trick or treating remained the domain of the young, the older residents of Ponyville passed between carnival style games in the streets and the increasingly haunted galleries throughout the town.
 
For the first time, the flower stand wouldn’t be staying open during the holiday celebration. So both Daisy and Lily accompanied him and Rose for much of the night. That meant passing through several haunted houses together, with Tracy watching dumbfounded as the three sisters were rendered almost catatonic more than once. Sometimes, he couldn’t even tell why they were afraid.
 
He didn’t complain that fear gave Rose reason to be physically close to him. And in the end, Lily pressured the two of them to explore the most frightening facility in Ponyville, an abandoned warehouse that the town's only thestrals had decorated with almost civic pride.




 
Tracy managed to make it through the entire thing without laughing, though he did spend the whole trip wishing he’d brought a GoPro. He could only imagine what YouTube would make of an adorable horse wearing a coat to conceal its head wobbling towards him with a fake axe.
 
Rose was so frightened that she didn’t speak again for half an hour after they made it out, clinging to his neck like an animal rescued from a burning building.
 
The night wore on, through plenty more carnival games and other local traditions. Finally the children had gone to bed, and the square transformed into a makeshift dance floor. The autumn wind grew colder, and it was easy to guess why the town had made this into the last outdoor party of the year.
 
Ponyville was apparently closer to his true home in Ely than San Jose, as plenty of ponies discussed the upcoming snow schedule with trepidation. Just one of those many aspects of living here that Tracy hadn't quite adjusted to yet. There were no weather predictions, only weather schedules.
 
After a few minutes of shyness, Rose finally cajoled him onto the dance floor. At first, Tracy had horrifying flashbacks to high school, when mandatory dances like this had really meant a night of awkwardness and mockery. But this party had the advantage of alcohol. Once he had enough to drink, he found his shyness boiled away. Besides, these weren't the harsh eyes of high schoolers, quick to gossip and criticize. Ponyville had its sour apples, but it was easy to forget when Rose walked over in her “costume”, and dragged him out onto the dance floor.
 
It didn't matter that he'd never danced on four legs in his life, or ever had any inclination. He wasn't the only one tripping over literally two left feet. But that wasn't really the point. 
 
“I can't believe how selfish I was,” Rose said, after a particularly slow rendition of an apparently traditional song. “I didn't even ask if you would rather celebrate on your side. I could have made an exception for Everwake and done both.” 
 
Tracy shook his head. “Last time I was at work, a few of my coworkers talked about going out to a bar for Halloween, but you wouldn't enjoy it. It's not like here.” He gestured at the table of hard cider, where Applejack was serving increasingly happy patrons. “I think most of the people who show up will just be going to get trashed. This is much better.” 
 
Rose looked doubtful, and might've been about to inquire about the truth of his claim. 
 
But then Lily approached. The mare had clearly spent far more time at the cider table than either of them, and had a wobble to her step. She braced herself against a pile of hay bales and smiled dumbly up at Rose. “You two were amazing together,” she slurred, gesturing vaguely in Tracy's direction. “And this is the longest you've ever kept one, sis. Maybe you should start thinking about keeping him. It's not like you're getting younger.” 
 
With every word it seemed Rose's face grew redder. She had the politeness to wait until her sister had finished to calmly push her mouth closed with one leg. “That's enough,” she said flatly. “Tracy's just here to enjoy the holiday. He doesn't need pressure.” 
 
In the time it took her to say so, Daisy had approached from the edge of the dance floor. Even worse, she looked completely sober, and had apparently been listening.  “Lily's right,” she said, though to Tracy's horror her attention focused far more on him. “I don't care where you come from, Spark Gap. You're not going to find anyone like my sister. You'd have to be a fool to turn her down when she asks.” 
 
Now, even Rose turned to watch his reaction. His ears flattened, and he nodded. “You’re right. I don't have as much experience as she does, but I think you're right. I've never been with anyone like Rose and I don't think I ever will be. I wish I realized that six months ago, so we could have had more time together.” 
 
Daisy barely even blinked. “I don't know how it is where you come from,” she said. “But around here, there are ways that you can stay with a pony forever. Of course, every tribe does it differently. I don't know about bats. But my sister knows everything.” 
 
Rose got redder, if that was even possible. Tracy wasn't sure how he could see a blush through so much fur and body paint, but he managed.
 
“You too, Daisy,” Rose said. She seemed so off guard that even that was a struggle for her. At least until now their conversation had barely been noticed over the music and the wind. But whether an eddy in the weather or the transition between songs, suddenly there was dead silence, and half a dozen ponies turned to stare.
 
This was of course the one way that Ponyville was entirely like the place that Tracy had left behind. In a small town, everyone knew everyone. More importantly, there were many who felt like the details of every life were worth watching, and sharing as far abroad as possible.
 
Roseluck was a daughter of Ponyville, loved by half the town. Treating her with anything less than respect and admiration didn't just risk upsetting her, but drawing the ire of his neighbors.
 
He was silent for an uncomfortably long time. More and more ponies turned to watch. He couldn't bear to look at Rose's bright green eyes and lie to her face. Finally, the words just spilled out. “We have a custom like that where I come from,” he said. “You’re right, I don’t deserve a pony like her.”
 
That seemed to be the right thing to say, at least as far as the audience was concerned. They turned away, returning to their drinks or out onto the dance floor. But while the conversation was only incidental to many observing it, Rose hadn’t looked away. When she finally spoke, her voice cracked, and he was positive he caught a tear trickling down her face. “Everypony always leaves,” she whispered. “It’s a bat thing. That’s what I always told myself. But my sisters are right—I know thestral customs better than most. There’s nothing about leaving their lovers behind. That means it was a ‘me’ thing.”
 
Tracy moved in close, whispering into one of her ears. “Rose, if I had met you in my world, this wouldn't even be a question. I know we've only been dating for a few months now, but I think I'd already be brainstorming ways to take things further.” 
 
He turned, facing their home nearby. It didn't quite border on the dance floor, though it was close to the celebration. “But if I did, that would mean one of us saying goodbye to our home. I couldn’t ask you to do something I couldn’t.”
 
All Rose managed was a tearful nod. So he kissed her, as long as he dared, then a little longer. If Ponyville wanted to know their business so badly, then let them watch.




 
Tracy watched the moon gradually sink in the sky as the night wore on, and moderated his drinking carefully. After all, he had work in just a few hours. He couldn’t make his triumphant return by spilling out of an uber with a wicked hangover and smelling like barns. 
 
Rose didn't. Eventually he found himself walking her home, stumbling and tripping over herself as she went. He led her all the way to their bedroom, then had a moment of deliberation, puzzling over whether it was worth it to try to get her to shower off her body paint.
 
But in the end, washing the sheets seemed like an infinitely simpler endeavor. So he settled her in bed, and made his way back to his bedroom. However much he might want to join her, the first faint suggestions of orange crested the buildings in his window. Dread began to grow in his stomach, replacing the warmth and simple pleasures of their night together.
 
Tracy hadn't been to Apex in weeks now. He hadn’t slept much in that time, but that hadn’t stopped the waking nightmares of his return. He would pull in with the old civic, and find his badge didn’t scan. When he called, he would discover that Janet had fired him without telling him. Maybe there would be an unmarked black van waiting just beside the exit, and dodgy men in suits would drag him inside as soon as he stopped. 
 
It was obviously just his imagination running wild, considering the hardware she had brought over. If she wanted to get rid of him, she wouldn’t have to visit in person, wouldn’t have to cross into another world to check if Equestria was evil.
 
The fear built anyway, twisting into nausea in his stomach. What stories would be whispered? What had Steven told the others before fleeing back to his home country?
 
Engineers were by no means a superstitious or religious group. But Steven’s insanity was itself a powerful point of evidence against him. He would need to make extra effort to repair that damage. 
 
It wasn’t just nausea he felt—the potion was wearing off. The withdrawal teetered there on the edge of his perception, a yawning black gulf that threatened to swallow him whole. 
 
He’d been honest about the drug, Rose knew. She must know that he’d used it to spend the holiday with her, right? She accepted this dependance, at least for the short term. I still have time to deal with this. We get a week off for Christmas, that should be plenty of time. He needed to go over the math, and compare that with the Equestrian currency he still had. The flower stand didn’t need him for the rest of the season, so he’d have to be careful. He couldn’t ask for more bits without Rose catching on.
 
Tracy clicked the door shut, then moved aside his picture of the Earth. He took a fresh vial of Everwake from behind it, and downed the whole thing in a second. Tiredness faded, and he finally relaxed.
 
I can make this work. Somehow.
> Chapter 56
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

No matter how hard she tried, Rose could never figure out how time moved so fast once her duties at the flower stand ended for the year. Well, "ended" was subjective, since they still served breakfast, along with opening briefly for Hearth’s Warming when the time came. But without their own greenhouse, even earth pony magic couldn't keep flowers alive when the first winter frost came.

That meant everything they did sell either came from hardier species they could grow outside, sometimes even with snow all around it, or more often, was imported from Canterlot greenhouses. Even when the family was stable, their parents had never rushed to build their own. "Every pony needs time away from work," her father had said. "Even working your talent, sometimes you need some time away to remind you what made you fall in love in the first place."

Now Rose had falling in love to take her away, and take her away it did. Tracy was at once like and unlike the other bats she'd been with over the years. He exuded confidence and danger wherever he went, even more dangerous than the bats she'd previously dated. His home was a world so frightening that some of its residents fled in terror—where their entertainment featured constant death and violence, and every resident had control over vehicles faster and more powerful than a royal carriage.

Only coming into work a few hours a week meant that Rose could drift towards Tracy's schedule, sleeping in late on the other days so that she could join him in his world when his work was over. She explored plenty of exotic food, visited museums and nearby landmarks—and most importantly, she got to drive his car.

After only her third visit to earth, Tracy surprised her with a “phone” of her own, a flat piece of plastic and metal that apparently had access to near-limitless information. Rose still wasn’t quite sure about all the details--but the important part was that she could use it to contact Tracy if there was an emergency. So long as she was in their home, the message would reach him, as reliably as dragonfire.

But the car was much more interesting to her. Where the phone’s uses were esoteric and outside the realm of her experience, a transportation mechanism to replace pony-drawn carts had already been contemplated and even explored in Equestria before. But where the horseless carriage was a clumsy, dirty machine, Tracy’s world had the technology as mature as Equestrian magic.

"How powerful is it?" she asked, the second time he put her behind the wheel. He'd taken them far away from other buildings and cars, which was probably just as well. There was nopony to hurt by accident if she made a mistake, just dirt roads lit by the magical lights on the front of his car.

"How... powerful?" Tracy made his confused, thinking face. It looked almost the same as the one he used in Equestria whenever anything went wrong. She was now entirely convinced that the Worldgate really did just change how ponies looked. "I only have the four cylinder, so I think around... 150 horsepower?"

But he must've seen something from her shocked expression, because he rested one hand on her shoulder. "Wait, that name is a coincidence. It has nothing to do with ponies, just... how many horses from my world would have to pull at the same time to go just as fast. None of them here have magic, don't freak out at the number."

His advice fell on deaf ears, and her spidery hand-things started to sweat. It was so much harder to ignore when there was no fur to disperse it—her fingers slid right off the wheel. "You mean this carriage is as strong as me and every friend I ever had, all pulling at once?"

"No," he said flatly. "Not even close. I've seen some of the stuff you can do, Rose. Like I said, it's a coincidence. Remember, you're sitting in a wagon made out of metal and glass. It needs to be able to travel at seventy or eighty miles an hour, even when it has five passengers, and the back is full of cargo. But you won't go that fast. Let's just focus on going forward, nice and slow."

Once she got past her initial terror at the phenomenal power at her hooves, “driving” was actually not a very complicated skill. The hardest part wasn't even making the car go forward, or stop, or even turn. Using her legs to control speed and stopping was intuitive, and the wheel was at least easy to turn. It was all the little buttons that confused her, particularly the "signals".

"You probably won't have to use those much anyway," Tracy said, at another lesson about a week later. "We can't take you onto the roads in the city, or the highway. You need a license for that—a permission card that says you're able to drive. Unless Discord helps you with his magic, we'll never get one. Out here with no one around, you don't need to worry."

"No," she declared, sticking her tongue out at him. "You said it's the proper way. I'm going to learn." She practiced when she could, but mostly the portal became a way to escape the Ponyville chill, to enjoy exotic sweets, and spend time with Tracy.

She never did have the courage to ask him what he meant when her sisters pressured him about marriage. She'd given them quite the talking-to the next morning, and they'd been good about it since. I'm not losing him because they're tactless.

Of course, she might be losing Tracy through the simple progression of time. February 1st stalked ever closer to her, like a changeling poking its head out from behind every calendar in the house. It felt like she had almost as much time to spend with Tracy as she could've dreamed of. But the more time they were together, the faster their calendar started acquiring marks.

"Have you thought about how you'll ask him yet?" Lily asked the next Saturday, as they reviewed holiday orders at the stand. "Somewhere in Whitetail Woods, maybe? Maybe the same place Mom proposed?"

"Slow down," Rose said, just as she always did whenever they went that direction. "I like Spark Gap, maybe more. But you can't keep talking about committing to one pony after just a few months like it's normal."

"It wasn't just a few months," Lily said. "You've been living together for a year. How much more do you want to know?"

An impossible question. Rose shook her head, even harder when Lily draped one leg around her neck. "I know I shouldn't be the one giving my older sister advice. But I know how much you want foals, sis. Sooner or later you'll either have to make your decision, or give up on that dream forever." 

"I don't know if I have enough time," she said weakly. "If I were with him another year, I'd know for sure, I'd do it. But there's a banishment looming over our heads, worse than any migration. A thestral can always decide not to fly where the clan does, catch up with them later. But when the lease ends, that's it."

"You couldn't ask for an extension?" Lily prompted. "Even if it cost more bits. I bet Spark Gap wouldn't mind paying extra to stay with you."

"We tried," she said despondently. "No luck. Discord doesn't care where we go when the Worldgate closes, but we'll be stuck on one side or the other."

"So it's Equestria or another world," Lily finally said. "We should've known something like this would happen sooner or later. Ponyville makes everypony a little crazy if you live here too long. Did you ask the princess about it?"

Rose hadn't. It seemed a fool's hope—but she was desperate enough at that point to try anything. Otherwise, the two of them might just pull both ways, stretching between two worlds until something snapped, and they never saw each other again.

But Tracy didn't seem to mind living in Equestria, or being a thestral. If there was some way to make a new Worldgate, one without Discord—maybe she wouldn't have to say goodbye! Maybe they had more than a few months to figure out if they were right for each other.

Rose made an appointment the same day. Princess Twilight was easier to see than any of the other royals of Equestria, and the very next Monday she stepped through into the royal throne room.

The Castle of Friendship wasn't nearly as fancy as Canterlot. There weren't thousands of years of history here, recorded in sculpture and tapestry and stained glass. But the strange enchanted table before the throne was far more impressive than a gold fountain. Rose took one look at the glowing map of Equestria on its surface, then looked away as quickly as she could. Such secrets weren't meant for a pony as lowly as herself.

"That's enough bowing, Roseluck," Princess Twilight said, gesturing for her to come closer. "My record says this is our first formal meeting since my elevation. I don't have anything in your file, so I'm going to guess you don't have any problems with my rule over Ponyville. How can I help you?"

Rose shuffled nervously as she approached Twilight's throne. It wasn't elevated over the room like Celestia's in Canterlot, and the Princess of Friendship wore far less regalia. But this was still an Alicorn, one who had saved Equestria herself more than once. 

"I have a... friendship problem," she said lamely. "Technically more than friendship, but I think it still counts. You are the princess of friendship, right?"

The Alicorn nodded, eyes narrowing. "I am. But if you're asking about love, I'm the wrong princess. My sister-in-law is the mare you want to talk to. I can get you a referral, if you want. You'll have to travel, but Ponyville can help subsidize the cost..."

"No!" Rose blurted, raising a hoof. So abruptly that the princess turned to stare.

She stiffened, backing nervously away. "I mean, no. I'm sorry princess, I don't mean to be rude. Honestly, this is more of a magic problem than a friendship problem. I don't think there's anypony in Equestria who knows as much as you do."

Twilight shrugged. "That's probably not true, but ask anyway. I'll help you any way I can."

She explained the problem as simply as she could, staying light on the details. Twilight Sparkle had not been happy with any part of the strange arrangement of Otherworlder and magic hidden in her own domain. But whatever frustration she felt, she didn't take it out on Roseluck.

"You want to make a permanent Worldgate," Twilight finally finished, a few minutes later. "Am I understanding you correctly?"

Rose nodded eagerly. "It's possible?"

Twilight rose suddenly from her throne, walking past her towards an open door. "Come with me."

She followed, growing increasingly eager by the step. The princess led her up through the castle, past the areas open to the public and into her own chambers. "It's not my place to judge your relationship with the Otherworlder," she said. "From what I've learned about his home, I'm amazed you had enough in common. But what you're asking... I don't have good news."

She nudged a door open, leading Roseluck into a magical laboratory of sorts. Most of the enchanted devices there were utterly beyond her understanding. Glowing crystals, strange diagrams that contained liquid suspended in the air, plants that grew in reverse.

Twilight took her past all of it, to a plain chalkboard against the wall. On each side was a drawing—one of Celestia, one of Discord. They'd been connected with various lines and scribbled text. Her own cutie mark was there, and Tracy's, bridging the gap between them. 





"Princess Luna and I have been trying to solve this particular mystery for the last six months. It's not my place to share the details with you, but what matters is this: Discord meant for this to happen, all of it. I think your relationship means he's winning. But we're quite certain that this complex relationship will be forced to collapse within the next two months.

"You're afraid for what happens after your lease ends, you want to keep a friendship intact? I hate to be the one to tell you this—but somepony has to. Discord is the only being with the power to create worldgates on a whim. Other than his magic, we only have the Mirror Portal for an example. That device was the life's work of Clover the Clever."

The princess met her eyes, expression resolved. "I want you to be happy, Roseluck. But a pony would have to labor their entire lives to build what you suggest. By the time they finished, you wouldn't need it anymore, one way or another." 

Roseluck sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes. Twilight's board was tucked away in the corner of her lab, an afterthought at the scope of a powerful Alicorn. But the magical factors on it were somehow manipulating Rose's entire life, and Tracy's too. Did all this mean Celestia was trying and failing to protect her from Discord's evil influence?

But it isn't all evil. I want to be with Spark Gap. The more she thought about it, the more it hurt. "There's no way, then," Roseluck finally said. "Somepony has to choose to give up their home."

Twilight nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry. All I can tell you is that I will support your decision. If the Otherworlder wants to stay, I'll grant his citizenship. If you want to go, Equestria will respect your wishes."
> Chapter 57
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Returning to Apex was no easy task for Tracy. Of course it wasn't that any of the actual engineering had gotten harder—two weeks wasn't enough to forget everything he knew, even if he hadn't been working for most of it. But he had been, so he hadn't even come unstuck from the projects everyone was working on.

Part of the challenge came from the sudden return of his humanity. Tracy wouldn't admit to himself that anything was wrong while he drove to work, feeling a strange lack of coordination in his hands. There was always another explanation—he was just tired, or maybe it was the Everwake slowly wearing him down. But if that was the explanation, that probably wasn't good either. It wasn't like he could stop again until next weekend. And every day I wait, the worse it gets. No wonder Discord wanted me to take this stuff.

It wasn't like his hands had stopped working or anything. With his leg mended, he felt only a little weakness from that arm, as the recovery continued. His fingers weren't numb or anything, they just felt strange. He couldn't quite decide if he missed having wings on his back, or if all these clothes were a return to the way things were supposed to be.

Worse than all that were the reflections. It was almost every reflective surface now. Even leaning back from his computer screen sometimes made his hair change blue, or let him catch the reflection of a mane out of the corner of his eyes.

No one around him reacted. When he walked past the security booth, the guard didn't so much as blink when his badge scanned correctly. He walked upstairs to his department without provoking so much as a curious glance. 

Tracy's desk had changed a little, but he expected that. He slipped the new work laptop into the dock, then his old screens all came to life. There weren't even rude notes on his desk.

But that didn't mean he'd escaped entirely unscathed. After the morning standup meeting, half the other engineers found excuses to visit his desk. They asked only polite questions, and never even mentioned Steven. But when they thought he wasn't looking, Tracy caught them staring. What were they looking for?

Nobody asked if he wanted to be part of the day's catering for lunch. When he did pass by the open meeting room filled with plates and boxes of food, conversation hushed.

He made an excuse to visit Janet before close, slipping into her office and quietly clicking the door shut. To his annoyance, he caught Lori lurking near the glass before he even turned around. I'll have to keep quiet if I don't want this conversation spreading too.

"What did you tell everyone?" he asked, as politely as he could. "It seems like half the office is staring at me."

Janet looked up from her keyboard, shrugging absently. "Not the truth, you bet your ass on it. But think about what happened for a sec, Tracy. We only had two interns, and one of them lost his mind after visiting you for lunch. I told everybody there was nothing to see. Most of them will buy it, if you give them enough time.

She leaned forward, grinning weakly at him. "You have to admit, this is way more interesting than usual office gossip. New kid gets hurt, first person to visit goes nuts. Boss goes to confirm that nothing was happening."

"What do they think happened?" Tracy didn't really expect an answer, but he had to ask. 

"Drugs, pretty sure," she answered. "The popular theory was that you're running some kinda grow-op in that apartment. Instead of being sensible, Steven partook, went on the worst trip of his life during work hours. They don't see his test results, they don't know he wasn't on anything. They didn't go there to know that you aren't."

"It would have to be worse than a grow-op if Steven was hallucinating at work," he muttered, annoyed. "Marijuana doesn't do that."

Janet raised a placating hand. "That thing you just said—try to avoid talking like that with the others. Don't be informed. Be ignorant. Make yourself boring. My 'investigation' got HR off your back, but you aren't out of the woods yet."

She gestured vaguely towards the glass with a stapler, and he heard movement in the space beyond. Their audience scattering, though Tracy didn't see how many people were actually watching. Maybe just Lori. "You didn't ask for this, I get it. I want to keep you. But if you want to stick around, then you'll have to work with me."

He nodded. "What should I do?"

"Be boring. Be so unimaginably boring that I can give everyone a few tough assignments, and we can just wait for the next drama to come around. Know what I mean?"

He nodded weakly. "My lease ends at the end of January. Once that happens, there won't be anything to worry about."

She nodded. "I'm going to give you the shit work for the next few weeks, make a show of punishing you for taking off during the Emmerson project. Just want to make sure you realize you haven't done anything wrong. This is for them, not for you. The work you submitted from home is some of the best I've seen from you."

"I was inspired," he said lamely. Fortunately, Janet didn't ask why.

Tracy did everything he could to implement Janet's suggestions. The first few days seemed hopeless, but by the end of his first week back at work, it became increasingly clear that he just wasn’t going to do anything interesting. More than once he found evidence that someone had been through his things—probably searching for the drugs he supposedly grew. Tracy gritted his teeth, complaining about the “accident” to HR, and moved on despite the hostility of his work environment. 

But then he brought Rose to Friday’s work party. That alone served as stronger proof of his mediocrity than anything else he could say or do. 

Janet's "help" probably made a difference too, though it meant a few weeks of fairly miserable work. Instead of designing anything new, Janet tasked him with updating the department's records, bringing all their resource models up to company spec, updating repositories...

But as mind-numbing as his days at work became, that also meant visiting everyone in the department, issuing patches and updates and having tons of entirely uninteresting conversations.

By the end of his second week back, someone had the balls to ask for the story themselves. Eric, one of the senior draftsmen. "I don't know what scared that kid..." he muttered, settling down the drafting tablet across from them. "You didn't slip him something?"

"No," Tracy said flatly. "I smoked weed once in high school, and I wasn't that impressed with it. I tried calming Steven down, but he wouldn't have it. I guess he just... thought he saw something."

Eric nodded knowingly. "Sometimes people break down. I'd ask if it were cultural, but HR would probably send me another stern email. Whatever it was, couldn't be that bad. Janet said there wasn't anything to be worried about. Hell of a way to spend your first year at Apex."

It wasn't like convincing one of his coworkers was enough to get the others to relax. But it was a start, and with it he could finally start focusing on what really mattered: his time with Rose. 

And all it cost were two little vials of potion each day, taken when Rose wasn't watching. She has to know what I'm doing. We get to spend so much time together, and I never miss work. How else does she think I'm living on so little sleep?

After two weeks back at work, Tracy sat down once to run the numbers on exactly how much sleep he needed. Over two days? How did I let it get that bad? Using enough of the Everwake that he now got the potion delivered in a large flask and poured it himself probably should've warned him something was up.

It was easy to find something else to think about, particularly when he was surrounded by so much beauty. Winter in Ponyville was everything he'd always loved about the season back home, though the temperature wasn't nearly as harsh, and the people were far friendlier despite not having cars or snowmobiles to get around. 

He followed Rose outside on a morning walk one Saturday, into a town that seemed to be hibernating for the season. If anything, Ponyville took on the cast of those garish paintings that were always up for sale in thrift stores, with a thin line of smoke rising from every home and light glowing from most windows.

"What do ponies do when it gets so cold?" he asked, over a cup of hot chocolate by their favorite cafe. "The shops are still open, but aren't most of the ponies here farmers?" Roseluck sat beside him rather than across from him, but that suited him fine. If he ran out, he could always steal her drink. 

"A few years ago we were," she said. "Ponyville used to pride itself on being an earth pony town. There's still some of that heritage left. Like when we wrap up winter in—" She fell abruptly silent, looking away from him. "I guess you won’t be here for that. A long, long time ago, before I was born even—the whole town used to shut down in the winter. I think it would've been good—you rest the soil between crops, and ponies need rest too."

I wonder what I would do if I lived here. Not resell human technology and set up PoS terminals in shops, that was for sure. He'd need the Worldgate open to bring all that stuff in. But then he realized what he was thinking, and his ears flattened abruptly. He wasn't going to be here in a few months—it was pointless to answer that question.

And even if I could keep living at the apartment, I wouldn't be able to go between two worlds anymore. Sooner or later I'm going to start bleeding magic on the other side.

"What?" Rose nudged him with a hoof, expression souring. "Was it something I said?"

"No, no." He patted her shoulder, wedging his wing better into the space between them. At least he'd only have to be cold on one side. "I was just lost in thought, that's all."

Rose wore little, even in the cold. But Tracy's winter clothes taken from home had a new life in Ponyville. With so much skin on his wings exposed to the icy winter chill, he could begin to understand why the thestrals either migrated south or just lived there year-round. 

"About?"

He probably would've dismissed the question with something stupid. But every time he thought about lying to her, he thought about the vials hidden in his bedroom, and the additional guilt became overpowering. "How useless I'd be if I lived here," he said. "The skills I spent my whole life learning—most of them are useless here. I'd be starting from scratch."

Her eyes widened. But if she thought the statement was strange, she didn't say so. "Tell that to the flower stand," she said. "We'd be shuttered by now if it weren’t for you. Don't deny it—you've seen the books."

She knew him too well. "I'm happy to help. But I can't make a career out of that. I can't go around saving ponies' businesses—you saved yourself. I just helped put together the information you needed."

"Equestria has room for everypony," she said, grinning broadly at him. "Besides, you'd be living with me. I'm sure we could come up with something useful for you to do, together. Most ponies use their special talent to make bits. You can't really think yours is getting electrocuted, can you?"

"No, I guess it isn't." It's probably more general than that. Try 'making a total mess of things.'
> Chapter 58
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy didn't have much time alone in Equestria anymore, not now that Rose was away from work and they were usually together. But just because they were trying to capitalize on every moment they could didn't mean there weren't times he was alone.
 
One of those was early in the morning, when he'd finished every project Apex had left with him and didn't have anything new. Janet's "reputation reconstruction" left him with almost exclusively grunt-work, nothing that occupied his attention as soon as he came home. That was probably for the best—his work-life balance was already broken enough as it was.
 
Still, it was a shame that Everwake came with an ever-mounting threat when he stopped using it. Having the entire day was great for his productivity.
 
But with nothing to do at work, his Earth friends not really talking to him anymore, and Rose busy serving breakfast at the flower stand, Tracy had a little time to himself. Time to bundle up as tightly as he could, covering his wings with enough layers that it didn't feel like he would bleed all his heat and freeze to death.
 
He didn't have anywhere specific to go, but he never had. The winter was a great time to leave his phone in the house and just go walking, letting the snow carpeting everything muffle the sound and leave the whole city in silence, except for the crunching of his own hooves on the ground.
 
That was what he expected, anyway. Usually that was what he found in Ponyville, a relaxing environment with the occasional little group of ponies out on their business. The smell of woodsmoke was a constant companion, and most homes had a little line of pale white. Simple, maybe. He didn't want to call it primitive.
 
Maybe Discord was hearing his thoughts today, because the noise coming from down the lane completely shattered his conception of what Equestria should've had. A low mechanical drone, getting louder and quieter at regular rhythm. Like a poorly-designed diesel generator.
 
Tracy didn't even think about it, just trotted off. He wasn't the only pony to be investigating, though most glanced only once towards the sound, then hurried the other way.
 
Tracy continued all the way through Ponyville, so far that he had to cross the bridge over a frozen river. By the time he saw the building, the noise had risen from a gentle hum to a roar, the kind that made him wish for ear protection. His bat ears pressed down involuntarily, but he didn't walk away. Instead he stared, taking in the strange sight.
 
The building called itself a "relay station", though the two times he'd passed, it was just an empty wooden shell with two pony faces on a sign beside it. It wasn't just an empty building anymore. The hardware had finally arrived.
 
Several flatbed trailers packed with wooden crates were parked as close to the side of the building as possible, where a set of wide doors was now propped open. Pulling the ensemble was a vehicle he could only describe as "vintage steampunk", with wooden spokes but a massive brass boiler on the back. Sparks of magic rose steadily between large electrodes, and so many gears and belts were in motion that he imagined they had to be for show. 
 
But the mechanical side wasn't really what interested him, or even the thick cable running off the back of the vehicle and through the open doors. It was, rather, what was inside.
 
Ignoring his better judgement, Tracy ducked through the open loading doors, looking around at the building's contents. The smell of smoke was thick here, and not the faint wood smell that he was used to from Ponyville. This was rubbery, oily. Something had burned that wasn't supposed to.
 
The room was filled with electrical hardware, every machine trimmed with brass and stamped by hand. On one side of the room, a bank of Van-de-Graaff generators were connected with sparking electrodes to a set of objects he could only take to be capacitors. Like everything else, they were electronics he'd never seen outside of a museum. 
 
The room connected with a single set of doors to a room labeled "studio", complete with a light-up "on air" sign. Why the owners had taken the time to decorate the space before finishing assembling the backbone, he couldn't guess.
 
"Hello?" Tracy called. The generator outside was so loud that he didn't expect his voice to carry far. Indeed, there was no response.
 
But someone brought all this in. They couldn't be far, could they?
 
He should probably go back the way he'd come. Equestria might have different social rules, but that didn't mean he could just go breaking in. 
 
But then he saw what had happened in the back room, beside the closed door to the studio. The ground was stained with ash, breaching out from the door and scarring the cement where it touched.
 
Inside was the wreckage of several more machines, even more intricate than the ones outside. Everything on the left wall was destroyed, though it didn't actually look like the building had burned. Several were covered with a powdery pink residue—Equestrian fire extinguisher?
 
Yet the generator outside hadn't actually been turned off.
 
Tracy stepped over several open toolboxes towards the centerpiece of the room, and likely also the center of the accident. He stared down at the various dials and switches, running from the front of a pony-sized machine to a raised set of brass rods ending in spheres at head level. He'd seen the like of this machine before—there was a smaller version plastered onto his butt.
 
He leaned forward, nudging the charred front panel of the machine. It popped out, so warped with heat that it was eager to move.
 
What he saw inside was a spidery mess of wires, connected to components he'd never seen before—at least not the version that ponies used in Equestria.
 
It's a spark-gap transmitter, he thought. The sign meant a radio relay station. It was the first step into wireless technology, a natural extension of the telegraph and railroad that were already ubiquitous. Why'd they bring it to Ponyville?
 
But he found that question didn't interest him much. There was a toolkit here, and boxes filled with spare parts. 
 
Like many old electronics he'd seen, this machine was trivial to read. At least so far as he knew, the fundamental laws behind electrical engineering hadn't changed in Equestria.
 
Before he knew what he was doing, Tracy had removed a spool of wire and a set of pliers, and he went about replacing the burned electronics. As he worked, he replaced wires in regular straight runs, rather than letting a twisted bundle block other parts and restrict airflow to temperature-sensitive components. 
 
He worked without really thinking. His hooves moved, his wings moved, and he hummed quietly to himself, losing himself in the labor. This was the way it felt when Apex gave him something interesting to do—a difficult problem was its own satisfaction to solve. But far from a sterile computer screen and an endlessly flexible CAD file, now he had actual wires in front of him, arranged in ways he could understand.
 
Time became a blur. Tracy worked, and the sun moved across the single window, caked with smoke. It didn't matter when it was too far to illuminate the room very well—his night vision made it easy to stick his head into the machine and see what he was doing without a flashlight. 
 
He was so engrossed in the work that he hardly noticed when he stuck back a hoof for a replacement vacuum tube, and it settled obediently into place. He clicked it into the transmitter, grinning at a job finally done. He looked back, and realized he wasn't alone anymore.
 
A pair of unicorns had entered while he was working. With the door only a few feet away, he must've been in a near-trance to fail to notice them. But fail he had, long enough that one had brought a chair, and was drinking steaming cider from a mug. The other was more focused on what Tracy was doing, a pair of faintly glowing goggles settled onto his eyes and a toolbelt around his waist.
 
"Oh." Tracy flushed, wings flattening. "Guess it was the generator... didn't hear you come in."
 
Had he just committed a crime in another universe? But they'd left the door open and everything!




 
"Don't stop on my account, hardworking little bat," said the unicorn closest to him. The pony had a clipboard levitating behind him, along with a paper-wrapped drafting pencil. Tracy glanced at the board, and realized what was depicted on it. It was the transmitter, or at least what Tracy's hard work was turning the transmitter into.
 
"This is your stuff," he said awkwardly, settling the spool of wire into the box. "Sorry about, uh... I don't know what came over me."
 
"We have some idea," said the other, sipping on his glass. "At least about the 'what'. The 'how' is a bit more interesting."
 
They sounded almost identical. Brothers then, maybe even twins? Even their marks looked similar, one a slice of apple and another the fruit with only one section missing. The first continued from where his companion left off, without missing a beat. "If you were a tad shorter, I'd guess you discovered your special talent while working with our little machine here."
 
He looked away. "I haven't had the chance to do anything interesting in a few weeks. Work is... getting better. I saw your broken transmitter here, and couldn't help myself. I'm sorry."
 
"No apology is necessary, new friend," said the nearest of the unicorns. "My name's Flim, my fine brother there is Flam. We're the owners of the patent for this device, soon-to-be wireless pioneers across Equestria!"
 
"I wasn't aware there were any ponies outside of Canterlot University who had studied the potential applications of thaumic-wireless transmission, least of all a practical technician who happened to live in the town of our first station. Who taught you?"
 
"You would not believe the answer to that question," he said, gesturing into the machine. "There were two problems in here, but I think your rectifier was the cause of your grief. That was what melted. For as much voltage as you were running through your transmitter, you need active cooling. Drill a few holes, keep a fan on this thing. There were a few other issues with the capacitors that would've kept you from full transmission power, but it's all sorted now."
 
He sat back, glancing out the open door behind them. Roseluck would probably be looking for him by now. He hadn't taken the phone, so she couldn't just send him a message. "Ponyville has electricity. What are you doing with a generator?"
 
"Ponyville declines to issue a permit," Flam said. Or maybe it was Flim? How could he keep them straight when their names were so close? "We're in negotiations with the hydroelectric provider. But they're unconvinced of the sustainability of our venture. Nearsighted fools, every one of them."
 
Flim emerged from the inside of the machine, grinning. "That's a remarkable talent you have, pony. Don't think we caught your name."
 
"I'm Tr—" He hesitated. "Spark Gap."
 
The unicorns shared a look. "Well if you aren't the strangest stroke of luck we've had this winter," Flam said. "But can you talk as well as fly?" 
 
His brother seemed to interpret that as a signal, because he pressed the transmission key. The lights overhead dimmed faintly, and a flash of energy passed between the balls of the transmitter. Blanketing the radio spectrum, maybe for hundreds of miles around. 
 
The unicorn held it for a few seconds, then pressed a few times more. Nothing in the box smoked, or caught fire. Flam grinned at him. "Well that result sure does speak for itself. How about a job?"






 
Tracy trudged back home through the snow about an hour later. The shadows stretched long, a winter afternoon already fading towards night.
 
Rose looked up from the couch as he entered. She was watching Frozen again, and this time hadn't needed his help working the remote. "Where were you?"
 
"Having one of the strangest experiences of my life," he said. Then he told her. He didn't need much detail about the location or the building, Rose already knew all that. 
 
As soon as he began to explain what he'd done, she stopped him with a hoof over his mouth. "I was waiting for something like that to happen. Congratulations Spark Gap! You have a special talent. Other than crashing."
> Chapter 59
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Winter came to Ponyville exactly as scheduled, with regular snowfalls and cheerful decorations and lots of adorable winter clothes. Everwake might be coiling its medical grip around his hooves one at a time, but in the meantime it meant that he could go out into town with Rose almost whenever he wanted. 

Among other things, Tracy used his credit with the flight school to schedule a week of no-crash lessons. If he was willing to take the lessons during the day, they even volunteered to send an instructor to Ponyville, rather than forcing him to commute.

I'm doping anyway. Might as well take advantage. Of course individualized instruction brought more pressure, since he couldn't just hide near the back and repeat what everyone else said. 

If I'm leaving Equestria behind forever, I'm going to learn to fly first. It was either this, or let the urge to put on a squirrel-suit and jump out of planes fester in the back of his mind until he actually did it. No way he could let that happen. Rose even came to cheer him on.

In the end, there wasn't much to jump on, nothing close to as tall as Canterlot. One special permission later, and they were jumping off city hall. It was either that or the castle, and Tracy didn't think Twilight would be terribly enthusiastic about that.

"You might look over the edge here and see a shorter drop," Giselle said, careful not to scratch the wood as she walked forward with her claws. Whether the gruff bird had decided to be his teacher out of guilt, or maybe obligation, he didn't know, and wouldn't ask. "That's not a good thing the way you think. Your marefriend watching from down there—she looks close by. She's not. What if I told you I've seen pegasi break legs from a fall like this?"

Tracy gaped, wings snapping to his sides. He took a few steps away from the edge, so he wasn't looking down into oblivion. "This is like... six or seven stories. Where I come from, no one would survive this fall. You saying I'd live?"

She laughed, clasping him over the shoulder with one peremptory wing. "You fell a lot further than this, Spark Gap. Do ponies where you come from carry boxes of lead with them when they go climbing?"

He shook his head, looking away awkwardly. But explaining his origins was obviously way too much detail for the flying teacher. "So why is a smaller jump worse?"

Giselle was bigger than he was, and when she shoved him, his hooves slid along the wood without resistance. She could probably have picked him right up into the air if she wanted with mean strength alone. "If you do it right, it won't be. We glide right down to the street over there, by the sweet shop. But if you fall... I might not be able to catch you in six stories."

"Don't screw up," he said, wings opening slowly to either side. "Can't be that hard, right? Gliding is easy."

The griffon nodded. "Let me see a proper stance. Wings open."

He demonstrated, muscles taught to resist the pressure of the fall. She circled him once, using her wings to push up from below. He wobbled to one side, then the other. But ultimately, he held.

"Good. Now I tell you to hover. How do you do that?"

He moved, flapping his wings in an exaggerated up-down motion. It wasn't exactly the one the textbook showed him. He'd learned this from Sable, out in a grassy field beyond Ponyville.

"Good enough. Now do exactly what I said. Jump, glide. I'll catch you. If I don't catch you, land on your legs. Medicine is great for fixing a broken leg, as you know." She laughed. He didn't. "But heads, not so good with heads. Don't hit that."

She didn't give him much more time to pace nervously back and forth by the side of the building. "Two, one, jump!"

Tracy took one look down. Rose noticed, waved, then started backing up. She made her way towards Sugarcube Corner. Duh, look the way I want to go. I don't want to go straight down.

He jumped. Air smacked up against him from below, bending his wings upward. But this time he had a week of personal instruction, not skimming an old book. He lost a little altitude, but not much. Mostly he glided forward.

"Good, good!" Giselle appeared beside him, rotated so she was flying backward ahead of him. How the hell do you do that? "Hold that way! You're doing great, Spark! For ponies it's all in the magic, and I'm seeing a ton. Little too fast, actually. Let's try pulling up into a hover."

She was right, he was speeding up, just like last time. But during that first jump he'd been falling rapidly along with moving forward. He could still see the rooftops. He was actually gliding!

Somewhere far below, he imagined he could hear Roseluck running, cheering him on. "You got this, Tracy!"

He did. Tracy spread his wings, bending backward to eat up forward momentum and turn it into a hover. His back strained at the effort, and he began breathing hard—but he stopped. 

"Too fast, pony. You're climbing. That's the worst way to gain altitude. Slow it down."

He did, and it became a little easier. Tracy was almost directly above Sugarcube Corner, up high enough that it started looking a little more like an actual gingerbread house under his hooves. 
 
"I'm actually... I'm actually flying!" he gasped. Between amazement and the sudden physical strain, he could barely talk. But what was there to say? Tracy wasn't just gliding anymore—even humans could do that with the right clothes. He was staying in the air.


 


"Sure, pony. Flying in place, but that's where it starts. First time, I expected you'd have fewer eggs in the nest. But no, you're..." She pointed back the way they came. "Back to where we jumped. No reason to glide down to the ground if we're past that. We'll work on a level landing. That's harder than coming down from an angle."

The lesson went on for a solid hour after that, until Tracy's wings and back were so sore that he really did start to droop in the air. His question—why didn't winged ponies fly everywhere all the time—now had an answer. Flying could be exhausting!

Or maybe it's just that you've never used those muscles before. Roseluck met him near the ground, with a few steaming cups of hot chocolate she must've ordered right before he came down. "Equestria's valliant befriender returns," she said, holding out the tray in a hoof. "Are you cold?" 

He nodded, exhaling another steamy breath. Between his scarf and coat, he'd barely even noticed the cold during the lesson. But now that he'd had an hour to work out a sweat, the winter air seemed to cut straight through it. 

He felt a little better when they made it back inside. He felt a lot better with a blanket on between them. "You should be freezing," he said between sips. "You were just standing there on the ground. Moving keeps you warm."

She shrugged a dismissive shoulder. "Earth pony. So long as I've got magic, it takes a lot more than a little snow to make me feel cold. But you... bats are all about being light, and dream stuff. Those don't help in winter."

Dream stuff? But it was probably best not to complicate his situation with more questions and just take her at her word. The warmth made him not want to think, just lay there and relax. 

"Giselle said that today. During the night class too, I guess, but I thought she was just being superstitious or something. I still hadn't understood Equestria yet. I mean, I still don't, but I'm getting better."

She nuzzled up against him, then took his empty glass from his grip and tossed it onto the table. "The only ponies who understand Equestria are the princesses, maybe the Elements of Harmony. The rest of us just get to enjoy it."

He didn't question her on that either. Now that he was finally giving it a chance, finally leaving his bedroom, there was a great deal there to enjoy.

For the first time in two years, Tracy didn't spend Christmas alone. The ponies called it something else, and they didn't have quite the same beliefs about what it was for. But Rose's sisters didn't mind having him along, even if the decorations he brought over from Earth didn't quite match the aesthetic.

It was way more fun than their obligatory few hours at the work Christmas party. But Roseluck found a way to make that her own, and absolutely dominated the karaoke machine, even after half a dozen fizzy cocktails.

But she didn't invite him along a few days after. "Every year my sisters and I go up to Hoofington," she said apologetically. "I know it seems really unfriendly, but doing it alone is kind of a tradition."

He looked away from the old Christmas movie playing on the downstairs TV, which he'd barely even been watching. Mostly he was not working, what he did was secondary. "What's at Hoofington?"

She pressed her neck up from below him in a typical pony hug. "It's where the family came from before we moved to Ponyville. It's where the family plot is... where my parents are buried."

"Oh." He embraced her, without any of the usual tension. But the longer they were together, the more that dissolved. Two months were long enough to move past the honeymoon phase of the relationship, and into something more sustainable. "It's fine, then. How long will you be gone?"

"One night. We'll take the morning train, and come back tomorrow night."

And just like that, he was alone, practically for the first time since November. Here he ran into Equestria's weaknesses—technology. He couldn't keep in touch with an occasional text to know Roseluck was alright. Couldn't call her before bed when she'd be feeling a cocktail of painful emotions he knew all too personally. Couldn't do anything at all, other than order some really delicious breakfast takeout from the Earthside cafe to pick up for her before she got home.

Without work to get to, Tracy could've used this chance to give up his potion vials. But do that, and he'd be lying in bed until Apex needed him again next Monday. He couldn't leave Rose on her own for a whole week.

So instead of doing that, he visited Barnyard Bargains to pick up his resupply, then ate a modest lunch indoors at Ponyville's cheapest local restaurant. He stepped inside, then would've dropped the expensive glass bottle if it wasn't tucked securely into a saddlebag.

Shane was sitting at a corner table, chatting loudly with several other earth ponies.

He'd changed a little in the last several months. Shane was leaner now, covered with the muscle that could come only from hard labor. He also dressed in nothing but a tuque without sign of embarrassment. He also had a cutie mark, a simple standing cement mixer.

Not that Tracy cared. He'd only bothered with a scarf and hat himself, since he wouldn't be outside much today.

Shane looked up. "Tracy! I was just at your place, but nopony answered." He rose. "I'm gonna eat with an old friend, if you don't mind." He crossed the room swiftly, extending a hoof towards him. “You remember me?”

“Of course I do.” Tracy rolled his eyes, then took the offered hoof. Some gestures were universal, even across species. “How was community service, Shane?”

“Great!” he patted him on the shoulder, hard enough that Tracy stumbled. Damn earth ponies were strong. “But they don’t call me Shane anymore. It’s Load Bearing now. Real official and everything.”

“I’ll try to remember,” Tracy said. “I hope you don’t mind if I’m still Tracy.”

Load Bearing only laughed in response.
> Chapter 60
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

They spent several hours at that table, before finally heading home to finish their conversation by the fireplace. Load told him about all the work he'd done, building infrastructure at an archaeological dig site. Tracy learned about the friends he'd made, all sentenced to community service just as he had been.
 
In return, Tracy had less to share with Load than he wanted, since all his questions were about Earth. He hadn't ever cared about politics the way Load did, and the others weren't talking nearly as much. Their awkward parting had left them all a bit sour.
 
"How'd you find your way back here?" he finally asked. "Community service is done, so... why here? Did the others all come here so you could say hi?"
 
Load laughed in response. "Only a little. The guys and I want to do our own construction business. Start out as contractors, earn enough for our own equipment... that kind of thing is still possible here, Tracy. Work hard, and you can go places. Turns out I just wasn't doing the right kind of work before. This is where I belonged."
 
He nodded, considering his words carefully. Load would take any opportunity to talk politics all night. "So why Ponyville specifically?"
 
"Not just to say hi," Load continued. "It's the princess—Ponyville is one of a few towns that can't build as fast as ponies need. They'll take anyone with a pair of hooves and a strong back. Buck, you could even find somepony to hire you."
 
He laughed, shaking his head. "No thanks. But... damn, that's cool. Does that mean you're staying local?"
 
Load nodded. "After spring. Ponyville was the first stop. But now that the negotiations are over, we're going to Vanhoover for Plumb Line, then on to Los Pegasus until it warms up." He flicked his tail towards the window. "No offence Tracy, but I'm spending my winter somewhere without snow this time."
 
He fished around in his makeshift saddlebags, removing a tightly wrapped envelope. "Before I forget, can you mail this for me?"

He nodded absently. "Just like that? You know Load, this Worldgate is open until the end of January. We could drive back to Ely. Roseluck might even want to come. I'd have to ask, but... she'd probably be down. I could let her drive some of the highway miles."

Load rose, retreating from the fireplace now. And from Tracy. "I want to. But if I do that... there's a good chance they won't let me leave. They'll talk me out of it. I don't want to be talked out of it."

He backed up a little further, right over to the window. "Look out there, Tracy. That's somewhere I want to live. That's somewhere I can raise a kid. Do you think you'll get to keep living here? Maybe once I'm more established I could go. A year or two."

"No," Tracy said flatly. "No chance. Rose and I have tried every angle, believe me. There might be other Worldgates, somewhere out in the world. But the princess can't do it, and Discord won't."

Load sighed. "Well... it's getting late, I can't miss my train. Hope I see you again in spring, Tracy." He smacked one hoof against a fresh photo, taken at the Hearth’s Warming party with Rose and Tracy just a few days ago. "I can tell you've found what I did. Don't give it up."

Tracy watched him go, vanishing into the darkness and the snow. 









Tracy went to work that day just like he had on any other. He checked the laptop with one hoof, his spare vial of Everwake with the other. Only when he was sure about both did he step out into the hall, ready to go.

He passed several unopened crates piling up near his far wall, which had been steadily accumulating there all winter. SBCs, displays, batteries. One way or another the flower stand would have enough parts to keep going, maybe until Equestria finally invented its own computers.

Rose lingered near the open bedroom door, grinning sleepily at him. "You have to keep working?" she asked. "Spark, you know what week it is. What's the point of going in?"

It's about to be the only thing I have again, he thought. Tracy hadn't actually done anything about the move. He hadn't looked for somewhere else, hadn't started packing his things. He still had a week, that was practically forever.

"I have to," he said. "But I promise, I'll come straight back. We'll make everyday count."

They'd already done that, as much as they could in winter. But before the season ended, Tracy's time in Equestria soon would. They'd searched every book they could, begged to Discord, even petitioned the princess. All failed.

Rose still didn't look happy. "Look." Tracy slipped past her, lifting her phone off the nightstand and thrusting it towards her. "You can send me messages while I'm there. I'll tell you as soon as I'm on my way home. I'll bring home more exotic fruit. Something real fun."

Roseluck watched him. She didn't even smile. "Is that it, Tracy? You've made up your mind?"

He winced, but didn't look away. "No. I haven't."

She closed the distance between them, and kissed him. Passionately this time, dragging him towards bed, tugging at his clothes as she went. "Then try... to think..." she began. "There are two ways. If you stay—then you have to leave Apex next week anyway. Leave now."

It wasn't easy to push her away, but he managed. She could've forced him—earth pony strength could've crushed him like a moth. But she didn't hold too tightly. "What if I don't stay?" he asked. "Then I need to work."

"No," Rose said weakly. "You already paid Discord. Can't you just apologize to Janet a week from now? If this is our last week together, don't you want to spend it all together? Tell her you're hurt again, that worked last time."

He almost did. But Janet deserved honesty too. She'd stuck her neck out for Tracy, even braved Equestria herself. Apex was a job—but Janet deserved better.

"I'll talk to her about it today," he said. "This is a new year, so technically I should have some vacation days. Maybe under the circumstances, she'll give me the week."

"I'm sure she will," Rose said, tiredness vanishing from her face. She picked up the phone with one hoof, somehow, staring down at the screen. "I could talk to her myself, help convince her."

"No," he said abruptly, backing towards the door. "No, don't do that. She's good people, but she'll want me to be the one to ask. You can thank her, after she gives me the time off. But don't ask her. I'll ask at the first chance I get."

"I love you, Spark," she whispered. "I'm not ready for Sunday."

Tracy left then, before he did something stupid. He picked up his bag from where he'd dropped it in the hall, then hesitated by the exit door. He listened, making sure none of his neighbors were outside to see him.

He heard nothing, which was normal this early in the morning. When he stepped outside, there were no police, nothing out of the ordinary.

There was nothing at all unusual waiting for him in the car, other than the face he saw reflected in the rear-view.

It wasn't even human anymore. Bat eyes glazed back at him, and bat ears stuck up so high they obstructed his view of the cars behind him. His back started to itch, and didn't stop until he looked away from the mirror and pushed it from his mind.

Maybe this was the real reason that Discord refused to renew the lease no matter how hard he asked. He'd never last another year. But maybe we could alternate, going six months between each world. Rose doesn't mind being human, I bet she'd do it.

She loved him. Could he say the same?

He pondered that question all the way into work. He was so distracted he nearly went the wrong way, and almost ended up in the visitor lot. He drove in an awkward loop around the campus, before finally finding his way into his marked place.

Tracy fought back a yawn as he passed security and got onto the elevator. He touched his vial of Everwake, confirming for the third or fourth time that it was in his laptop bag. He knew from experience now that it didn't transform into some inferior Earth drug, or lose its magic when it crossed between worlds. But what would happen if the company took rumors seriously enough to bring in dogs or something?

They won't. Those were just rumors, and I've been doing good work. Why bring in dogs when they could give me a drug test. For that matter, Tracy didn't know what a test like that would reveal. Did magic potions leave a detectable signature?

He settled into his usual place, snagged a doughnut from a box out in the hallway, and went to work without incident. There was only a little disappointment that Rose didn't decide to make today the day she finally figured out texting. It wasn't.

He made a little progress on the department's big project of Q1, and only then stepped away from his computer to wander to Janet's door. It was open, which meant that she wasn't too busy. 

Unfortunately, it wasn't just her inside, but a good third of the department, all seated around the wall while she explained something projected onto her desk from above.

Was there a meeting today? Why didn't they get me? His reputation at Apex might take another year to fully heal.

But if his coworkers were embarrassed about the confrontation, none of them showed it. Most politely looked away. Tracy himself tried to retreat out the open door, until Janet finally noticed him. "No, Tracy, you should be here for this. We're reviewing the reference design for the pressure intake. You should see it too."

He couldn't argue the point now, so he found an empty chair and sat. The meeting resumed, with one of the draftspeople on his left shifting slightly to get further away. No one else seemed to care. 

The meeting was about as productive as he would've expected, reviewing something he could've done on his own in half the time. But as he sunk further and further into the seat, he felt the strange pressure against his back again. It was strong enough that he lifted up onto his hands, avoiding putting weight on his back. 

I'm not looking at any reflections here, where's that coming from? Tracy shifted uncomfortably, perching on the edge of the seat. He took a few deep breaths, fighting down the strange feeling. Nothing's happening. There's no magic here, it's fine.

Except it wasn't fine. The nervous woman on his other side nudged him, whispering, "Are you okay?"

Then someone screamed, pointing directly at him from the other side of the room. Janet stopped talking, looking away from her notes. 

Tracy stumbled to his feet, dazed. "Is something wrong?" His words came out slurred, and he felt a brief sting of pain on his tongue. But that was nothing compared to the floor getting ripped out from under him.

Tracy staggered backward, moving instinctively towards the door. His shoes slipped right off his feet, and more confused voices joined the first scream. Some pointed, some just stared in morbid fascination. 

It was the same transition that happened whenever Tracy passed between worlds, only much slower. And worse, since it didn't seem to have any effect on his clothes. Suddenly there were pants trailing past his hooves, and a shirt that caught up on his feet and tripped him when he took another step. He rolled, and one of his wings emerged from the opening. 

Tracy's ears flattened at the barrage of shouts and confusion. Janet remained morbidly in place—but many of the others didn't. With Tracy blocking the only door, they pressed against the accordion-style folding rear wall. 

Metal squealed and it tore right off the ceiling, toppling backward and taking a half-dozen engineers with it.





Tracy didn't stop to stare—he ran.
> Chapter 61
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy yanked off oversized clothes as he ran, ditching his shirt and jacket in the hall between his office and Janet's. The pants were a little more stubborn—he couldn't get those off without stopping. The sound of running, terrified people followed him like a wraith, so close it sounded like they might tackle him at any moment.

But none did, and he made it all the way to his office, passing dumbfounded coworkers and confused secretaries along the way. By the time he kicked the door shut, he could hear a distant siren, probably the building's ordinary security system.

A few seconds later, the sprinklers clicked then started spraying water all over the place from overhead.

Did someone trigger that on purpose? Last he checked, those sprinklers didn't use any sensors or emergency switches, but required actual flames to shatter glass tubes inside.

What do I do what do I do what do I do...?

Tracy stood still in front of the mirror against his door, staring at the terrified pony's reflection on the other side. Not even in his worst moments had he ever seen a whole pony on the other side. But then again, he had a room full of witnesses to attest what had just happened. While he stared, Tracy shook at the confining pant legs, dislodging them from a body not meant to hold them.

He had to run, obviously. He had to put as much distance between himself and Apex as he could. The shouting and confusion continued outside his door. There was no telling how much longer it might continue like that.

Water sprayed down against the wall, turning the fancy docked laptop into a piece of sparking e-waste.

I didn’t get to choose, he thought, to the tune of screaming and splashing water. It slid down his coat and wings, hardly even considered. Too bad I can't fly. I might be able to get home. He didn't have a window, but the building had plenty of exits.

A plan seized him then, a plan so utterly insane that he could barely even entertain it. He couldn't take off yet, that much was obvious. But he could fly, once he got going. There are twelve floors. If I can get up to the roof, I could fly all the way home. It wasn't even ten minutes away by car. If he could do laps around Ponyville, he could make that.

The door banged open, and Janet burst in. She was soaking wet, makeup smeared down the sides of her face. Shadows flickered in the space behind her, and for a moment Tracy imagined he could see a beak there. Was his transformation contagious somehow?





No, he was just projecting. Janet smacked the door closed behind her, then loomed over him with arms folded. If she'd looked big as a hippogriff, now she towered like a giant. A very angry giant. She screamed for almost thirty straight seconds, and he couldn't make out a single English word. What little Spanish he remembered from high school suggested most of it was profanity, though.

She caught herself, resting one hand against the door behind her. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" she finally asked, breathing heavily.

"Nothing intentional," he said, exasperated. "I'm out in a week. One more week, and this would be over."

Janet laughed bitterly. "No end to it now, pendejo. No end ever. I did good by you, kid. Now you..." She slumped against the wall, landing in a growing puddle on the floor. The energy was already leaving her. "Last year, fulfillment had an intern who melted a copier. I did not imagine anything worse could ever happen."

Tracy had to hop up onto his desk to reach his phone. Unlike the laptop, it was waterproof, and the screen still lit up despite the moisture. "In my defense, I didn't set off the sprinkler, or knock over the wall." It sounded stupid even as he said it. But once the words were out...

"Forget the fucking sprinklers," Janet snapped. "I'm talkin' about therapy for my people. You shouldn't exist—none of it should. I know you're not a demon, stupid little horse. Don't know what we do with you now. Forget what management thinks from Steven—what kind of men in black you figure come drag us away?"

"Us?" He dried the phone as best he could on some carpet on the far side of his office, then fumbled around with his hooves. When he brought this thing into Equestria, it felt easily double this size, obviously expanded to make it easier to use with hooves. Navigating to the phone app was agony. "Shouldn't you be joining the mob or something?" 

She sighed again, even deeper than the last time. "Whole campus is evacuating. Security doesn't know what the hell to make of it, I think they're reading it as a gas leak from fabrication. God knows how they'll explain a disconnected building getting 'gassed.' According to policy, they'll sweep the building, getting everyone out. Police will be called—hazmat might already be on their way. Assuming they don't call the men in black."

"You're still helping me." He grunted in frustration, then gave up and just slid it along the ground towards her. "Can you call Rose for me? Or just text her... she should know what's happening."

Janet took the phone, but only tucked it into her pocket, rising to soggy feet. "We need to get out of the building. Did you drive?"

"I was thinking I could fly. I just need something tall to jump from. If I could get to the top floor, I could glide home." He nodded towards his keys, anyway, sitting beside the useless laptop. "I need to get back across. I'm not sure... maybe the door will fix me again? But I'm not sure what would be waiting for me if I did come back. Everyone in this whole damn building is going to see me."

"And... about a hundred cameras." She scooped up the keys, then brandished her own. "Fly across all of San Jose. If you weren't about to start an urban legend before—hello moth man."

He nodded weakly. "You shouldn't help me. What happens to you after all those cameras show us together?”

"Too late for that, amigo. Those visits I made to your place were all recorded. Even if HR doesn't know what I saw, they know I cleared you. Pretty sure whatever unmarked van boys come to look into this will dig that up." She hurried across the room, bracing up against the door. She peeked outside, then stepped into the dark hall, illuminated only by red flashing emergency lights on the exits. 

He followed, keeping pace far better now that he wasn't trapped in those ill-fitting pants anymore. She was right about the evacuation though—he didn't see another soul on this floor. He could hear some moving on the floors above, and panicked voices still echoed from places he couldn't see. "I don't know what they'll do to us. Maybe prison for you, maybe dissect me..."

His imagination spun faster and faster with every step. By the time they made it to the emergency stairwell, he'd already conjured up a whole secret agency, watching for alien creatures that appeared on Earth. Obviously they must exist, if magic did. They'd find him, and make him disappear. Spookiness demanded it.

"Alternatively, that won't happen," she said. They hurried down the stairs. There were loud voices in the stairwell, and soon they came upon the back of a crowd. Janet pointed, and they fled onto a lower floor. Not before several people saw them, and more scattered, screaming and pointing.

"I'm fucked at Apex, obviously. Whole department will probably get restructured. What, you think the police are going to arrest me?"

Tracy didn't have a clue where they were going, but Janet seemed to. They crossed the abandoned floor of another department, this one without the puddles of water everywhere. But there were wet spots on the ceiling. They'd have their own water-damage soon enough.

"Maybe. They'd think you... helped me or whatever. You knew 'what I was' and didn't tell anyone. You're a..." But even as he said it, his fears seemed dumber and dumber. People weren't at war with ponies—they didn't even know ponies existed. If it weren’t for his transformation during a meeting, they'd probably just think he'd escaped from a petting zoo or something. Or maybe a circus.

Janet laughed. "I could just abandon you. But you need a key for the roof. Lucky for you, I have just such a key." They reached another stairwell, on the other side of the building. Janet poked her head inside, then gestured for him to follow. They ran up the stairs, a task far easier for her than it was for Tracy.

It wasn't like he couldn't move on four legs anymore—he'd mastered all four ways of pony movement now, even the tricky gallop. But these stairs were a human's distance apart, not a pony's.

They passed plenty of other workers along the way. "Get away!" Janet shouted, or something similar. "Other stairs! Don't get near it!"

People obeyed without question, often just changing direction and running the other way. 

Janet grinned with increasing smugness each time it happened. "Just sound like you know what you're doing," she said. "Too bad that won't work to get us out of the building. Otherwise we could just drive you back to that house. What exactly will you do when you get there? You think you can reverse this somehow? Or were you always this way?"

"I wasn't. I never lied to you, Janet. But after all those people saw me—after causing this disaster. Apex is done with me. It's probably not even safe for me to stay on Earth anymore."

More and more people seeing us together. I sure hope you don't go to prison over this. Tracy slowed as they neared the top, the climb draining him more and more by the step. How much could one pony walk before they collapsed? 

"I feel that," she said. "Probably smart. Melting right in front of us like that... there's no way you don't get vanished into some nameless military base somewhere. Might happen again. Might be contagious. Hell, it better not be."

Finally they reached the roof, and Janet produced her keys. She fished around with the gigantic ring. "Lucky for you I've got this master. Management doesn't know it exists, except now they will." It clicked, and they stepped out onto the roof. 

The gigantic rooftop AC units were silent and still around them. Gigantic pipes provided constant obstructions to his line of sight. Still, he didn't need to stay here for long. Once he got to the edge, he could take a running jump, and fly home.

"I'm sorry for ruining your life," he said, struggling along behind Janet. Climbing ten human stories was so much harder than it looked. "And maybe the company too. I know you... cared about... Apex."

She shrugged one shoulder. "I give it 50/50 they give me more money than I would've made in ten years to keep my mouth shut. Either that, or... maybe Nick Fury shows up. I saved a thousand people from the 'demon'." She laughed, patting the wall with one hand.

It wasn't even half her height, probably only there to obscure view of the air-conditioners from the ground. It was taller than Tracy, though low enough that he could make the jump. He took a few steps back to do exactly that.

Then his back legs gave out under him, and he collapsed to the ground. A wave of tiredness crashed into him all at once, powerful enough that his eyes lost focus and his tongue went numb. 

Janet turned, dropping to one knee beside him. "What's the matter, Tracy? Sure might want to take off around there. I hear an awful lot of sirens."

The world swam. He fought against the exhaustion, tried to stand. But this wasn't one night he'd gone without sleeping. It was months. "Ever...wake," he mumbled, twitching one leg towards the stairs. "Left it—"

He collapsed into blissful unconsciousness.




> Chapter 62
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Roseluck was just a filly, she'd looked forward to the family's winters with fierce anticipation. It wasn't just that she didn't have to work in the back of the stand—though after a whole year, her excitement for arranging flowers did fade. Every year it seemed they went somewhere more interesting, gathering plants so rare that they were only described in ancient poetry, or depicted in ruined castles.

But now all that was gone. She had all the same freedom, but none of the direction.

At least her last year was better now that she had Spark Gap—instead of pestering everypony she knew for little odd jobs to pay the interest on their mounting loans, she could live quietly and comfortably, confident that the next year would be even better.

But there was nothing comfortable about this last week. Maybe it was like what pegasi and bats went through, before their parents pushed them out of clouds. One way or another, something incredible was about to happen. Whether that was a lifetime of flight or an agonizing crash, Rose would soon find out.

She should've slept until Spark Gap’s return. He'd promised this would be the last day of work, after all. They'd have an entire week together to make their plans. Of course, they'd had an entire winter together, then a whole month. Maybe they'd wait until the last second, and the door would just close by accident.

Don't be selfish, Roseluck. Would you give up your whole world to be with somepony you loved? What if Spark asked her to come across to that side?

I probably would. With that realization came a whole world of pain—giving up her flower stand, saying goodbye to her sisters for years, maybe forever. Cars were fun, and humans practically swam through a sea of entertainment. They could summon any plant, and request almost any knowledge they desired from their machines.

But what was a mountain of exotic flavors if she couldn't share them with her sisters? When they had their first foal together, what would she teach her if not about Equestria?

In the end, Rose spent hours curled unproductively on her floor, staring up at the ceiling. She should get up, do anything to distract herself. But that too took energy.

Finally, after drifting in a fugue for hours straight, something changed. The “phone” device Tracy had gifted her a few months ago started to ring.

She knew the sound by now, since Tracy got calls often enough when she was around. He'd even called her from the other side a few times, usually to ask about a meal he was bringing home. I'm not hungry, I don't need to answer.

The ring continued for a few moments, angry and insistent. Then it stopped, and the world was quiet again. Rose watched the moon inch across the sky.

It started ringing a second time. Now she sat up, glancing nervously at her shelf. The moon was barely halfway—it couldn't be much past noon on that side. Tracy never came home this early. And he probably wouldn't care enough to ask me twice about breakfast.

She got up, hurrying across the room. The sound only happened four times, then the machine would give up. If she didn't make it...

But she did, tapping the green button with her hoof. "Hello?"

It was Tracy's name on the screen, but she didn't hear his voice. Still, it was one of the few humans in the whole world she recognized. Janet, the hippogriff who had visited for breakfast, and was so polite to her at those boring parties. "Rose? Rose, are you there? I hope this is the right one, he doesn't have many contacts in here..."

Rose leaned in closer, tail flicking nervously back and forth. She hadn't heard so much fear from another creature's voice in a long, long time. "I'm here," she said. "Why does it say Tracy's name?"

"I'm using his phone," she said absently. Behind her, Rose could hear lots of other sounds. A distant, annoying whining, growing louder by the moment. Lots of human voices too, though they were so distant that she couldn't make out what they said. "Listen, I know... I should probably just give up and run at this point, but I can't. Doesn't feel right to leave him here like this."

Rose lifted the phone in her hoof, and crossed into Tracy's room. She looked out the window, and sure enough the sun was still high in the sky. It was the middle of the day over there, and she even imagined she could make out some faint whining sounds, like the ones she heard over the phone.

Stranger still, there was someone parked in front of their apartment. Rose had never seen that car before, or the man walking out of it. But what creature in either realm would be driving a machine made of parts from a dozen others, all the wrong colors and sticking out at odd angles? Who could grin right up at the window, smiling at her with predatory satisfaction?

"Tell me what happened," she said. "And what you need from me."

"You already know about... course you do. Aren't you from there? Tracy's a fucking horse. Right here, before the blessed virgin and all the saints. Also half my damn department."

What? "That isn't how the Worldgate works! You change when you walk through it, that's the whole point. He wouldn't go to work if he still looked like—"

"I know!" The voice grew more frustrated by the minute. "I know he's not that stupid! I saw him walk into work. Thought maybe he was a bit sick, but that's it. No—he melted. Fucking melted." She took several deep breaths. "Sorry. Language. Just sounds like the whole world is ending here. He was going to fly back, but he just collapsed. Still breathing just fine, but unconscious. Slapped him, stuck his face in some water here. Nothing. He's out."

Roseluck nearly dropped the phone. She wobbled on her hooves, before catching herself against the wall. She stared down at the screen, and the distant whining got louder.

"I was hoping you knew how to help him," Janet said. "Since you're, uh... from there? I think that's how this works. Or maybe you got cursed before he did. Either way. I'm already up to my ass in this thing. No half measures. How do I get him out of here?"

Outside her apartment, the human that must be Discord leaned against the side of his car, watching her. He whistled quietly to himself, spinning something around one hand. You did this somehow.

"Tracy said he stopped... of course he didn't. He was always with me, only took a few hours to himself. When was he sleeping? Never."

"I'm afraid I don't have the foggiest idea what you're suggesting," Janet said. "And you might want to speed this up. Police are all here, going through everybody. Once they get everyone off the property, they'll come in here looking for the X-Files shit. Don't know if it'll be the police or SWAT or HAZMAT or... whoever it is, Tracy is fucked if he's still here."

"Tracy was drinking a potion every day—Everwake. It makes it so you don't have to sleep. But if you stop, all that sleep catches up with you. The only way to wake him up again without waiting all that time would be to give him more. If I know Tracy, he's prepared. He probably brought some to work. Look for a glowing liquid with little white flecks."

The human on the other side said a long string of words that Rose couldn't understand. "This kid's lucky I'm already sunk into this, or I'd leave him. What do you do if you're cursed? Throw in an addictive potion, of course! Perfect sense!"

There was the sound of rustling, then grunting, and now her voice came with air on the other side, like she was moving around. "Good thing you're small and adorable. I can carry him. But to where, that's the question. If there's a police line, they might shoot him if he tries to fly. We need another plan."

"Can you drive out?" Rose asked hopefully. "Humans all have cars, right? Bring him back to where we live."

"No can do. My car's in the manager lot, that's got about fifty police cars in it right now. Tracy's is in the aux lot, but there's a traffic jam from hell as everybody gets away from here. I think driving's out. Might mean trying to play nice with the police is our only option."

Rose didn't know what that meant, though she said it like something to be afraid of. If they were going to "shoot" a pony trying to fly, then they obviously had to be avoided. Rose was too afraid to ask what shooting Tracy would do.

"Alright, uh... can you get him out another way? What if I could drive down there? Could you get past the police somehow?"

There was silence from the other end, but this time it didn't come with frustrated muttering in a language Rose didn't know. "Maybe. If this idiot wakes back up, we might... get out onto Keyes Avenue. We'd have to hop a fence, but there's no barbed wire or anything. Get to the intersection of Keyes and Main in like... ten minutes. Can you do that? Aren't you a horse?"

"I'm a pony," she corrected reflexively, though she lacked the energy for anything more than a tacit objection. "But there's someone here who can. I'll be right there."

"Good." The phone made a clicking sound, then fell silent. Rose made it halfway down the stairs before she remembered just how important clothes were on the other side, and she had to run all the way back. She couldn't care less about human taboos—but if creatures thought she was strange for any reason, they might try to stop her.

She picked the first dress right off the floor, squeezing into it so fast she could feel the fabric straining. But she kept her earth pony strength in check, enough that it didn't split down the middle. The dress did give her a single pitiful pocket, but it was big enough for the phone. She jammed it inside, then ran out the door as fast as she could. 





Rose stumbled as she made it out onto the sidewalk, feeling a sudden shock of pain as her hooves became soft feet. Of course, she'd forgotten shoes. How could something so soft and fragile get anything done?

"Discord," she yelled, stomping furiously towards him. "You caused this. You did something to Tracy, didn't you?"

It didn't matter that she'd never seen him before—her impressions proved exactly correct. The man towered over her, gangly and strange. Though his human body was all made of the same parts, he'd substituted clothing patched together from many colors, all barely holding itself together. 

"So self-righteous!" he said. "You say that like I forced him to develop his magic, or forced him to keep drinking a potion he knew had side-effects. When did I ever show you anything but kindness?"

How about that time you tried to trap his friends in Equestria? Or all the times you were the one attacking us? But arguments wouldn't get his help. "You know what's happening," she said, resting one hand on the side of his car. She shivered in the chill, though compared to Ponyville's winter it was less than nothing. There wasn't even snow on the ground, how could it feel so cold?

"You must be here to help, right? Clean up your mess?"

"Oh no." He tossed something up into the air, then caught it again. It was a set of keys, so weighed down with different bits of metal that Rose could barely make out any individual key. Somehow he caught one out of the many, holding it towards her. "I'm just honoring the terms of the lease, that's all. They're quite specific—if I can't provide a functional Worldgate for the full duration, then I'm obligated to offer monetary compensation prorated until the termination. Given your relationship with the other resident, I determine that you're his authorized agent. Here you are."

He settled the ring into her hand with a metallic clatter. "She has a full tank. Be careful with a cold start, she sometimes accelerates along non-spatial dimensions."

"What?" Rose turned, watching as he made his calm way up to her house. He still had one key in his fingers—the one to her front door. "Wait, you can't go! You have to go get him!"

Discord laughed. "I have to do no such thing. It does seem like a good idea, though. Someone should give it a try." He stepped inside, somehow crossing the boundary without expanding to his proper shape. How could he do that? The door banged closed behind him.

Rose stood beside Discord's misshapen car, heavy ring of keys in her fingers. She still had the one pointing upward. If this car worked like Tracy's, that was the one that made it go.

I'm not ready. I don't know how to do this. At least I know where he works.

Roseluck shivered in the cold, glancing nervously back up the walkway. She could drop the phone right here, walk back inside, and never face the danger out here.

All she'd have to do was live with abandoning Tracy. It wouldn't be his fault she never saw him again.

She yanked on the car door, swinging it open towards her. Smoke wafted out, a strange perfume of a dozen different scents. The interior was just like the outside, mismatched seats, parts just gone from where they were supposed to be, and a wheel with a pair of eyeballs that turned to watch her.

"I can't do this," she muttered. "I'm not with SMILE. I don't go on adventures. I scream and hide!"

Roseluck gritted her teeth and climbed into the driver's seat.
> Chapter 63
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roseluck settled uncomfortably into the seat of the car. This wasn't anything like the one she'd been practicing in. Tracy's had been old, but it also felt like something loved. Every change he'd made had clearly been to keep the old thing working longer. While that meant there were a few odd parts or things that didn't work right, the purpose was always clear.

She stared down at the dash in front of her, and found no such thing to be true here. Every dial looked like it was stolen from some other machine, and none told her anything useful. What the buck were half these numbers, anyway?

She slid the key into the ignition, and the strange eye-decorations on the wheel blinked at her. "Don't you say anything," she muttered, furious. "We're taking one trip, and you can do whatever you want after that."

The car didn't say anything. But they weren't like carts with pony crews, Tracy had explained that over and over. There was nothing inside it, not even a come-to-life spell. It was just mechanical parts, working together to help her go quickly.

She turned the engine, and it roared. Not the splutter she was used to—this sounded like an actual dragon. She winced, jerking back against the seat. The eyes looked back at her, and she imagined she saw amusement.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine."

At least once it started running, the roar settled down into a gentle, contented purring sound. Rose glanced around the street, then ran over the checklist in her mind. E-break off, shift into drive, check her mirror, signal... how did humans remember all this?

At least she had a memory for places. The same skill she used to find exotic flowers growing in distant woods year after year could also be useful here. She'd been to Tracy's work before. She just had to repeat that path, without hitting anything or getting lost in an entire world of human stuff. How hard could it be?

Finally she started to accelerate. She made it about three feet before a horn blared behind her, and she slammed on the brake by reflex. A long white car blurred past, with angry humans leaning out the side and making gestures at her.

"Sorry, sorry! Forgot to check again—"

But they couldn't hear her, and didn't seem to care to try and listen. Roseluck checked again, then finally started driving. 

Tracy made this look so easy. Those hands did a dozen little things at once, turning the flashers on and off, adjusting the music and the temperature, twitching constantly to keep the car within narrow white lines on the pavement. 

Roseluck was a champion of navigating carts in Equestria, she could make it through the narrowest Canterlot alleys with deliveries ten times her weight.

But that was at pony speed. It took only a few seconds on the accelerator, and she was blazing forward at what felt like sonic rainboom velocity.

Her hands gripped the wheel so tightly her skin went white. "Celestia help me," Rose muttered, as she made her first turn. Apparently she needed the help, because more cars blared at her. A few screeched to a halt, and more people pointed.

But she swerved, and managed to get back on the right side of the road. Just two more like that and I'll be there. 

Her heart pounded in her chest, hands beginning to slip on the wheel from sweat. But the straight parts were easiest—so long as she stayed in her lane, and went the same speed as everypony else, no one looked at her.

Well, that wasn't true. Discord's car attracted about as much attention as Discord himself. Rose couldn't shake the feeling that parts of it might turn and flee the instant she looked away. Around her, the buildings got bigger, and the whining siren got loud enough that she could hear it over her engine. 

But there were no flashing lights behind her, so she wasn't caught. Those are for Tracy.

Rose turned again, and this time things went a little better. Granted, that was just from the lack of other cars on this side of the street. Lots of them were trying to get away, but none were coming this direction.

Almost there. The car sputtered and shook under her. Rose tensed, watching to see which parts would fall away. Would she get dumped out onto the street, rolling until she got squashed by another car?

I just need to find Keyes, she thought. At least this part of the human world made sense. They were like the ponies of Manehattan, who put labels on corners to show what streets were which. Main was what she was on, so she just had to keep driving a little further...

There, on her left! 

She swerved violently, tires squealing. But she was going so fast, the car didn't want to turn fast enough! The wheels bounced and roared under her as she thumped up onto the sidewalk.  There was a terrible crash from behind her, and the sound of breaking glass. But she kept moving forward, kept her hands on the wheel.

Another series of bumps shook through her, along with a terrible metal screeching. Then she was moving forward again. Her path was a little unsteadier than before, the car drifting one way. But she was still moving.

"Almost there almost there almost there..." There was a fence along the other side of the street, made of thin metal chain. And clambering down from the other side was a single pair of figures, both known to her.

Of all the strange things Rose had ever seen on this side of the Worldgate, she never expected one of them to be a pony. 

Tracy looked worse than refugees she'd seen fleeing the changeling invasion all those years ago. His fur was a mess, covered in mud and ash and debris. His wings hung limply at his sides, dragging along like he hadn't slept in days. He seemed barely able to walk—but he was walking. 

Rose swerved, screeching up onto the sidewalk on that side. A car coming the other way slammed on their breaks, then started honking. But Rose ignored it, practically falling out the driver's side. 

"You made it!" she said, stumbling towards Tracy. She wrapped those strange, gangly arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug.





Ponies were little. She'd never noticed before, crossing as quickly as she did. No wonder Janet had been able to carry him down to the office. "You are so... so stupid," she whimpered, fighting back tears. "I told you not to go!"

"I know..." he said. Rarely had she heard a pony sound so unbelievably exhausted, barely even standing. "How'd you get here?"

"Barely," Janet answered, kicking the side of the car with one boot. She didn't look better than the bat, though at least she was still on her feet. "You were right about not being able to drive. Holy shit, look at the rear axle."

But she couldn't—Rose didn't even know what that was. She finally let go, rising to her feet. "Sorry. I thought someone else would, but he just gave me the car."

"Discord," Tracy huffed, confused. "Why?"

"We don't have time," Janet interrupted. "I know people saw us cross here. From the look of your car, you made an impression on the way over, too."

"Can you drive it?" Rose asked, desperate. "I don't think I'll make it back."

Janet glanced nervously up and down the street. There were no more cars coming, just the single angry driver swerving around them and continuing down the road. "Can't get much worse. Hop in."

Rose did, helping Tracy up into the backseat. The back of the car was even less comfortable than the front, made far worse by the shattered window and broken glass on the floor of one side. 

Tracy clambered up into the seat beside her, staring out the window as Janet began to drive. His eyes were wistful, distant. "I didn't know what I would choose, Rose. But now I don't get to choose."

She nodded weakly, wrapping one arm around him, holding him as the car shook and rattled. "Do you want to stay? After all this?"

Janet clearly knew what she was doing, but that didn't mean her driving was calm. The engine roared under her feet, and she swerved wildly, dodging around cars outside like it was nothing.

Maybe that had something to do with the whining siren, following them now. There were lights off in the distance, but getting closer by the second. Who could drive crazier? 

"No," he said, defeated. "But that isn't the same. Isn't a choice now."

The car squealed and bucked under them as they came to an awkward stop, bouncing against the pavement. Then it moaned, and smoke billowed out from the hood. "That's all she wrote!" Janet said, kicking out against the driver's door. "Boys in blue are right behind, maybe two blocks. Come on!"

Rose didn't know what most of that meant, but she understood urgency. She shoved the door open, stumbling out onto the sidewalk. Tracy followed, jumping down and trailing along behind. 

Sirens grew to a roar, and lights flashed off the nearby buildings. Janet stopped beside the door, flinging it open. The inner door beyond was conspicuously closed. Odd of Discord to be so polite.

"Guess this is it," Janet said, face grim. "You two... stay safe. I'd say to write me in prison, but I don't think the post delivers to other worlds."

Rose crossed the doorway in an instant. The world warped and twisted around her, and suddenly she was on her hooves again, looking up.

But Tracy lingered on the other side, looking back. "You don't have to go to prison," he said.

"Well yeah, I'm being a little dramatic. Nobody actually got hurt. With you gone, they might just run with the story of some... mass hallucination."

But she didn't sound like she believed it. Tracy backed across the doorway towards her, wings spreading emphatically. For the first time, nothing happened.

"I don't mean that. I mean you should come with us."

Those sirens were getting loud. Rose's ears pressed flat to her head, trying and failing to muffle the sound. A pair of black and white cars sped towards them from the corner, with a few larger vans just behind. Lights flashed from the top, blindingly bright.

Janet hesitated, one hand on the doorway. A police car banged up onto the sidewalk, blocking off the way in front of the car. The other approached from behind, crushing Discord's car between them.

"Now or never!" Tracy yelled. "I don't know about curses—but Equestria's a nice place to live."

"You think there might be a way back? A few months from now, when this blows over?"

Tracy shrugged. "Maybe. There are other Worldgates, but nopony can tell us where—"

The door banged open, and men in blue uniforms jumped out, pointing something black towards them. "On the ground, right now!"

Their boss took one last look back towards them—then she jumped. The Worldgate caught her in the air. She glided over the two of them, as elegant as the noble hippogriffs depicted in ancient sculpture and song.





At least until she smacked into the wall, sliding to the floor. 

But Rose didn't turn to look. She slammed the door shut.

Tracy reached past her towards the locks, hoof hesitating halfway up the door. The sunlight streaming in through the side window vanished. There was no crash of thunder, no roar of thaumic power. Just a sudden, profound silence as the blazing sirens stopped their whine.

"Ugh," Janet moaned from behind them. "What the hell was I thinking?”

"Something smart," Spark Gap said, pressing up on the knob with a hoof. The door swung outward. 

There were no cars piling up in front of them, no sirens and flashing lights. The door swung only halfway, before catching on the weeds and brush buried in a thick layer of snow.

"I thought about how this would happen," he muttered. "I didn't picture this." He turned, hurrying over to the crumpled heap of a hippogriff and helping her to her feet. "Sorry about... fucking up your entire life."

Janet muttered something frustrated, but didn't push him away. "Ask me how I feel in a week."

He won't be able to, since he'll be sleeping off the Everwake, Rose thought. She pulled the door shut, then slid the deadbolt across with a definite click. 

"I don't know about you," she said. "But I could go for some hot chocolate." Rose nudged the inner door open.

Princess Celestia stood in her kitchen.




> Chapter 64
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy stumbled through the inner door. Everwake shoved down his throat didn't have quite the same effect as carefully managed doses. The magic was still there, still enough to keep him awake. But now all those nights without sleep loomed behind him like a pallet of bricks. 

But he couldn't sleep now. Tracy would have to face the goodbye to his world with barely enough strength to walk. He managed that at least, making his slow way into the living room.

For the second time in a year, he found a princess waiting for him. But where Twilight could pass for one of the unicorns of Ponyville if he didn't catch her wings, this creature barely seemed like the same species. She towered over all of them, even Janet, with proportions that must be the pony equivalent of “supermodel”. 

There were no lights on on the ground floor, other than the diffuse glow of his TV. But with Celestia standing before them, he could've mistaken it for daylight.

Rose bowed low to the ground, far more than anything she'd ever done for Twilight. Tracy stumbled to imitate her, though he was far slower about it. 

Janet didn't bow, just stopped in the doorway completely dumbfounded. "Dios mio. Are you some... angelic steed, sent to carry us home? Are we dead?"

Rose made a sound of desperate fear, worse than when she stumbled out of Discord's car. She covered her face, and whatever she wanted to say melted into an apology that didn't quite reach words.

The fear was apparently unfounded. Celestia laughed. "These days I trust my ponies to find their own paths. More often than not, I find myself impressed with their results."

Janet nodded, apparently too subdued to speak further. She didn't bow, but she did look away, shielding her eyes with a wing.

"I would be happy to speak with you, visitor," she continued. "But please, would you give us a moment of privacy while I discuss recent events with my subjects? Perhaps if Roseluck would grant you permission, you could take this opportunity to use the facilities upstairs. I won't stay long."

Rose nodded weakly. Her voice was so timid it was barely audible. "O-of course, Princess. Janet, you... upstairs. Anything you want."

It wasn't quite a sentence, but it was enough. Janet backed towards the stairs, never showing her rear to the visiting princess, until she turned the corner and was finally out of sight.

At least this time it didn't seem like half of Ponyville was watching through the window. The darkness outside showed no pairs of eyes.

But there was another creature, settled comfortably on the couch. Apparently he'd been watching something on Tracy's TV—one of the Marvel movies? Tracy didn't care enough to see which one. Discord stood, and suddenly there was another creature to rival Celestia in the room. "I simply cannot wait to get my hands on that security footage."

"Welcome back, Roseluck," Princess Celestia interrupted. "I'm thrilled you've returned to Equestria safe and sound." She levitated something towards them—a tray with five cups and a single fine china teapot. "Not hot chocolate, I'm afraid. But you'll find this more refreshing I'm sure. You in particular, Spark Gap. Or would you prefer Tracy?"

He didn't answer at first—half because he couldn't find the words to answer someone so important, but more because he didn't know. Rose took her cup politely, holding it with a single hoof and a lifetime of practiced balance. Tracy had to fiddle around, nearly knocking over the tray in his exhaustion and clumsiness. But Celestia was ready for that, pulling it back and tilting it upward slightly so none of the other cups spilled.

Then he drank. The supernatural tiredness threatening to crush him didn't fade away, exactly. But the sensation of fighting to stay awake through sleeping pills vanished. It was like coming back to life.

"It won't last," the princess said, settling the tray gently on the table between them. "But a little relief seems deserved."

Tracy could finally think straight, with his debt to Everwake pushed away from his conscious mind for a little while longer. "I wish I could answer your question a little better, Princess." He drained his cup completely, though it took one hoof and one wing working together to tilt it back all the way. "But I don't know."

"I think we do." Discord moved in beside her, blocking the window with his strangely mismatched body. "The terms were clear, Princess. Two creatures with nothing in common, transformed to intimate, lifelong partners. Could you imagine any relationship more lasting? Could I have won this little wager any more thoroughly?"

The princess was unmoved. She settled comfortably down into one of their seat-cushions, the first creature he'd ever seen put her back to Discord. "I don't know. Miss Roseluck clearly risked life and limb to rescue a friend in need. But Spark Gap—you took away whatever choice he would have made. Of course he stands before us in Equestria now—his life was forfeit to powers unknown."

With every word, Rose sunk further and further into her seat. Tracy moved towards her, putting a protective wing between themselves and these great powers. Even Celestia, friendly and polite and helpful—spoke about their lives like it was a game. 

Rose might be too frightened to speak—or maybe she was just overwhelmed with her respect for the princess. He wasn't. "We're more than a wager," he said, barely keeping his voice calm. "We deserve... better. We're people. Ponies, whatever word you want. You can't just... use us."

"We didn't," Discord said. That alien grin spread wider and wider. "Think for a moment, Tracy Maxwell. You chose to sign that lease. You chose to help Roseluck sell her flowers. You decided to fall in love with her."

"You made me a pony in front of my coworkers!" he shouted, spreading both wings and puffing himself up as big as he dared. But no matter how brave he acted, it still felt like he was a child shouting at a disapproving babysitter. With mom watching, entirely silent. "I'm not sure what I would've chosen now! Her, obviously! But where? My world, this one... you took that away!"

Celestia whistled quietly, then took a single sip from her glass. 

"Which world doesn't matter," Discord said. "And again, you assume. I left you with a Worldgate robust enough to survive a year of use, even as you learned your own magic. You say you didn't get to decide—but you did, bat. You chose Everwake, so you could keep the terms of our agreement, and still spend time with her. That extra trickle of magic is what transformed you at last from human to pony."

He bowed dramatically—but not to them. His attention was all for the Alicorn across the room. "You see, Princess. I believe my understanding of friendship has graduated from casual to mastery."

Finally the princess nodded. "You win. Visit Canterlot Castle tomorrow, Discord. We'll discuss our next steps. But I think it’s safe to say that the possibility of future Worldgates with that sister realm has reopened. As you suggest, Equestria will not remain in isolation for much longer."

He positively beamed with satisfaction, then finally turned his attention on the two of them. "In thanks for all the entertainment, I have something for the two of you."

He tossed something onto the table, which unrolled right beside Tracy's cup. He glanced down, and knew instantly what he was looking at. A deed. "I have no further use of this property, so perhaps you will. You know what they say about real estate: location, location, location."





"Send Janet home," Tracy spat. "We want that instead. Whatever choices I made—she didn't. She was just being kind."

Discord loomed down over him, resting one claw on the edge of the deed. "What agreements I strike with the Otherworlder are no concern of yours. You chose—now she will choose. I offer you no guarantees or promises on her behalf."

He snapped one claw, and vanished from before them.

There was a long, awkward silence. Well, awkward for them. Princess Celestia poured herself another glass of tea, looking around their room with mild amusement. She seemed neither intimidated nor surprised by the big screen and other human furniture tucked away in the corner.

Finally, Rose managed a feeble squeak. "Is all that true, Princess? Did you really... make a wager with Discord? Was the last year of our lives just a game to you?"

Celestia met her eyes, unblinking at the accusation. "He thinks so. But would you ponies like to know a secret?" She didn't wait for their confirmation, though she did glance once around the living room—as though searching for Discord, still watching them. When he didn't reappear, she continued. 

"Discord saw this as a game, because that's the way he looks at everything. The harm he does to other creatures isn't always obvious to him. But with the right incentive, his remarkable talents can be turned to doing good."

She reached out with one hoof, touching Rose gently on the shoulder. "You've shown incredible fortitude, Miss Roseluck. This is exactly the strength Equestria needs in the years and centuries ahead. As friendships grow stronger and magic advances, ponies will continue to press at the boundaries of our world. Sometimes something—or somepony, finds their way in."

She turned her attention on Tracy. "I'm sorry for what you lost, Spark Gap. But I do want to help you. If any questions still linger, I would like to give you closure."

You didn't really answer Rose's question. All that sounded like a polite way of telling her that you toyed with our lives for a good reason. 

But an argument like that risked giving up the chance for real answers. Discord clearly wouldn't be forthcoming, but maybe Celestia would. "What happened to me, exactly? Was Discord telling the truth?"

Celestia nodded. "His Worldgate used the same compatibility spell ponies have used on other portals in the past, to explore realms beyond our hooves. Any creature to pass through from either direction would be changed to match the world waiting for them. It might seem like both directions of travel are equal—this is not actually the case."

She rose, circling slowly around them, and opening the inner door. "When Roseluck or any other creature from our world visits yours, they pass through this door. The spell creates a human illusion. What you did not see was the magic waning every moment they spent in your world. There is no way to replenish the enchantment on your side, or none you were likely to encounter. Any Equestrian creature who remained too long would eventually break that spell, and the illusion would fail."

"I went through over and over," Rose said meekly. "I never felt like a pony over there. Could I break it by mistake?"

"If you stayed too long," Celestia said. "You remember the requirement Discord gave you, that you should make this your home, and nowhere else? That is why. Returning here regularly was enough that the spell was refreshed, no matter which world you chose."

"So where did it go wrong?" Tracy asked, following her to the door. He passed in the narrow hallway, nudging it open with a hoof. He half expected the Worldgate to return, waiting for him again. But it didn't, and there was only snow waiting outside. "Why did I... change?"

"Because of what happens when you move the other way," Celestia explained. "Your kind does not have magic of your own. But in the absence of other magical threats, you don't have any resistance to it, either. This makes you... receptive, malleable to magical effects. Magic is change, Spark. It is a flame that consumes what it touches, and makes it into something new. Not ash and smoke—but new life."

"He didn't have magic at first," Rose said, settling down beside him. She pulled the door closed with one hoof, then rested up against him. "He hid from Equestria for months and months."

"And so he was unchanged," Celestia agreed. "Until he decided to be part of life here. Making friends, learning to fly, and using potions—these decisions all changed you. Until one day you had so much Equestrian magic bottled up inside that your human shape couldn't hold it anymore. 

"That was what happened today. No spell shielded you with an illusion, since none was necessary. Until it was. You saw what happened there."

"So if... if the Worldgate was still here, I could use it again?"

Celestia smiled sadly. "For a day, perhaps a week. But beyond that—I'm sorry to say that Discord never lied, Spark Gap. You made your decision."

"Do you... regret it?" Rose asked timidly. She met his eyes, not looking away this time. "Would you rather you spent this year hiding upstairs?"

Spark Gap might not have known what he was doing, and he certainly hadn't known the consequences. But here at least he didn't hesitate. He saved a flower shop, flew off a few cliffs, saved his friends' immortal souls. And most importantly, met Rose.

"No. I wish I'd known. But I wouldn't have done things differently." He flicked one wing towards the stairs. "What about my boss? Janet... she's the only reason I made it back here. She didn't choose anything."

Celestia looked away. "Just as the other you brought through this Worldgate, the illusion will not fail while they're surrounded by magic. Eventually, no illusion will be necessary. If your 'boss' wishes to return, she will have to find another Worldgate soon enough that she is still human underneath. She could have years of time, or maybe weeks. But that power is not mine—she will have to make arrangements with Discord, or else brave the ancient and forbidden places to find a Worldgate of her own."

It wasn't a good answer, exactly. But it was something. Janet could still find her way home.

Tracy yawned, his whole body shaking as he did so. "I think... I think the Everwake is catching up with me again, Princess. I'm sorry."

Princess Celestia chuckled politely. "Then let me be the first to welcome you as a new citizen of Equestria. I'll see to all the legal arrangements, by way of apology for my involvement. I have full faith my little ponies will make you feel as welcome as they have already done. Learn from them, Spark Gap. This is a kinder place than the one you left—understand that I will do anything necessary to keep it that way."

She nodded one last time to Rose, then turned towards the stairs. "I'll do what I can to settle her fears. But she will need a great deal of friendship in the coming days." Celestia vanished, leaving the two of them alone downstairs.
> Chapter 65
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy could feel the effects of Celestia's tea wearing off already. She had given him a bit of grace—long enough to have that last conversation with her. He certainly couldn't be upset with her over that.

All this time I thought Discord would trick me into breaking my contract. I watched that so carefully, I had no idea what he was really doing. But now it was done, and Tracy's fate was sealed. This is my home now.

He nudged Rose in the side with one hoof, grinning awkwardly at her. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry I didn't get off the Everwake. I planned on it, but... Discord was right. If I weren’t taking it, we wouldn't have spent the last few months together. I'd be asleep while everything happened."

Roseluck embraced him. Finally there were no squealing sirens, no boss or princess watching just over his shoulder. He could just hold her and let everything else drift away. But maybe not too long, because he was already relaxing, and that risked falling asleep right here in the living room.

"I forgive you," she finally said. "I know why you did it. You even had a good reason... or you think you did. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let that happen again. You heard what the princess said—you're a pony now. That means I expect better."

She leaned in for a kiss. He lost track of time after that. Eventually she broke away again. Somehow, she continued right where she left off. That made one of them who still remembered. "Hurting yourself 'for me' isn't fair. I won't be responsible for your choices anymore. From now on, we'll talk about it."

She dragged him upstairs—towards her room, rather than his own. By now the mercy of Celestia's brew was entirely gone. The Everwake Janet had dumped down his throat kept him going, but it was still a ton of effort. 

"And don’t think we won't have to," she continued. They ignored Tracy's room completely, which was mostly shut. The shimmering pink and green of Celestia's mane radiated out from inside, along with hushed voices. "You won't be any less a bat when you wake up. You'll still want to sleep during the day and be awake at night."

He nodded wearily. "I think I’m... I think we might have to talk about this in a few days. Maybe a week? Two hours times... two months? My math isn't working right anymore."

"You won't be here when you wake up," Rose said, helping him up onto the bed. “Tomorrow morning I'm carting you off to Ponyville General. Now that we know what you have, you won't be a medical mystery."

"Can't you just... keep an eye on me?" he asked. "It's not like I'll go anywhere. I don't sleepwalk." 

"No," she agreed. "And you won't sleep-eat either, or sleep-drink. I don't know how long it will take for you to wake up. Don't argue, you can't stop me anyway." She stuck her tongue out. "And when you wake up..."

"I don't know," he finished. He wobbled on his hooves, resting against the side of the bed. "I thought I knew what I wanted from life. Spent four years getting a degree in something your world barely has. The computers in this house are... the only ones in the whole world. I don't know what I'll do."

But even as he said it, Spark Gap realized it wasn't quite true. He might not know his job going forward, but life was about a whole lot more than where he worked. He had a pretty good idea that the rest of his life would involve the mare in this room. Maybe he could help run a flower stand. And learn to fly, and go to the Echo Caverns, and lots of other things.

"We'll figure it out together," she said.









Many years later.

Violet didn't mind getting up early to help at the flower shop. But as helpful as she always tried to be, she was far more eager to volunteer for the evening shift.

Mornings around the shop were always the same—the same dozen or so ponies came by for a healthy breakfast, there would be a few ready to pick up orders, and a shipment for the train bound to Canterlot or Manehattan. Then came a long stretch of nothing until lunch. And right when things got interesting, she was done.

But afternoon, though—afternoons were when anything happened. The ponies who called later in the day were often unexpected—travelers finishing their meetings at the castle, this year’s students from the friendship school, taking some time off. 

The only thing she could really count on from day to day was that she'd meet somepony exciting.

Her mom didn't count, of course. Rose came in from the attached greenhouse, pushing a cart of flowers carefully cut from outside. She parked in the workspace behind the counter, then lifted a few trays carefully onto the table with blocks of green floral foam. 

"Big order today?" Violet asked, gliding down from the upturned crate she used to stand at counter level. But there were no customers here at exactly this moment—she could always hurry over if anypony arrived. "Can I help?"

"We'll see," Mom said, patting her affectionately on the shoulder. "Aunt Lily should be here to help in a few minutes. But if there aren't any customers, maybe. Keep your eyes on the till, I have to go get the rest of the flowers."

She smiled, then turned back the way she came, slipping out the back to the family greenhouse. Violet's little brother Indigo spent far more of his time there, surrounded by growing things. But Violet just couldn't figure out what made it so interesting. It was the ponies who visited that made the shop fun, not anything they sold.

Even now, Violet's oversized ears sensed something happening on the street outside. She dodged around the counter, gliding over to the glass. The storefront wasn't large—aside from a few wax displays of the food they sold, there was just the counter and a little space for ponies to line up. There was nopony here now, so Violet dared hovering up above the wax display, peeking outside.

There was a strange pony in the streets of Ponyville, maybe the strangest she'd seen in a long time. She wore a lot of clothes, but not in the overly formal way of the fancy ponies from Canterlot or beyond. If anything, her clothes seemed silly. Several layers of dark cloth, including trousers that covered so much of her back legs she was tripping on them.

Her little brother wouldn't be able to hear through glass enough to know what ponies were saying outside. But then she wasn't strong enough to pull a single cart of arrangements, and he could do the whole thing on his own.

"Someone has to help me!" she yelled, stumbling towards one little crowd of creatures milling near the old city hall. But they backed away, a few taking to the air and muttering to themselves.

"I don't belong here!" she yelled, tail whipping around her like a whole cloud of flies was trying to bite her. But if there were flies, they wouldn't be able to get at her skin through all those layers.

Violet reached up, nudging the open sign around with her nose. She glanced once over her shoulder, making sure that Mom wasn't watching. Then she slipped out the door. She hovered high in the air at first, near the oversized "Flower Sisters" sign. She could land on the big sunflower if she wanted, and get a good view.

But there was nothing to be afraid of. The pony wasn't attacking. After some more confused yelling, she collapsed to the street, whimpering to herself. A few passing creatures nudged closer to her, but seemed too intimidated by all her strange clothes to get too close.

Lots of ponies were intimidated by new things. Not Violet, though. She was made of stronger stuff.

She landed on the street a few steps away from the pony. She kept her wings spread, ready to take off at the first sign of danger. Just because she was braver than lots of Ponyville didn't mean she was careless.

"Excuse me," she said, loud enough that the mare would hear her. "Are you okay?"

At first there was no response—then she looked up. "Hell no. Look around you. What kind of world is this?"

"Equestria," she answered politely. "It's a really nice world. That's what my dad always says."

The crystal mare groaned, stumbling awkwardly to four hooves. She was taller than Violet—not as old as her mom and dad, but still fully grown. "Does he know any others?"

"One," she said absently. "We used to watch movies from there. But the old TV stopped working when I was still a filly. I'm not a filly anymore, obviously." She twisted slightly to the side, displaying her sextant cutie mark. "See? I'm a young mare now. Like you. I'm done with school and everything."

The crystal pony hardly reacted to the important things. But she looked up, a feeble shred of hope visible where before there had been only fear. "I'm not supposed to be here, kid," she said. "I'm lost... lost from another world. None of these people seem to care that they're horses. They won't take me seriously. Do you know anyone who will?"

"I mean... duh." She turned, flicking one wing towards the door. "My dad came to Equestria right before I was born. He doesn't leave very often, but he still knows a lot. More than Amaranth's parents know about other worlds. She's just pretending because she knows it bothers me."

"Can you take me?" she asked, increasingly desperate. "I think I... I think I did something stupid. Incredibly stupid. Anyone who isn't from here might be able to help me. I have to get home."

"Sure, yeah. I'm sure Dad wouldn't mind. Come on." She trotted off into the shop, holding the door open with her mouth. As expected, the crystal mare was clumsy, stumbling over her unnecessary clothes and almost tripping on her way in. But she made it inside, right about the time that Mom rolled another cart of flowers through the doors.

"You were outside?" she asked, leaving the cart by the standing fridge and making her way to the counter. "Oh, you've brought somepony. Evening, miss! What can I get for you?"

Violet answered before the pony did. "She's lost, Mom. I think she's from another world."

Her mom froze, but only for a moment. She didn't act afraid like the other ponies had. She just watched, taking in the stranger with one intense look.





"Your daughter?" the stranger asked. "She's right. I know it sounds crazy, but hear me out. I don't belong here, and I need to find my way home. Can you tell me anything about horseworld?"

"Equestria," Violet put in. "I told her that already, Mom."

Mom nodded. "Violet, fly down to the relay station and get your father. I think he won't mind leaving work a little early for this."

"Sure thing!" Violet ran, dodging around the strange crystal pony and out the door. "Mom will take care of you, weird pony. Don't worry! She's used to ponies from other worlds."

She galloped for a few steps, then took off into the late afternoon sky. 

It took her less than a minute to fly across Ponyville to the relay station. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have feathers, or any of the weather-magic that pegasai enjoyed. Violet was just as fast without any of those advantages.

The Relay Station was an ugly, boxy building, surrounded by Ponyville’s suburbs. While the other structures at least tried to imitate what “old town” ponyville looked like, the relay station didn’t even try. It stood out for its strangeness, from the huge transmission towers on its roof to the flickering neon “on air” lights that occasionally came on near its front.

Violet didn’t bother going through the front, but instead landed right on the roof. She dodged carefully around the strange towers and cables, some of which she knew were incredibly dangerous. She didn’t know which, so she was extra-careful and didn’t touch any.

The rooftop door was always kept unlocked, so she didn’t even have to coax the lock into opening for her. Violet slipped inside, dodging down a dim wooden hallway and following the subtle buzz of electricity in the air.

She found her father where she knew she would, tending to the machines the way a farmer watched their crops. 

It didn’t matter that Spark Gap wasn’t the richest pony in Ponyville, or the most important. Her dad was someone to be proud of. 

The bat was tall and lean, one of the tallest ponies Violet knew. He wore a toolbelt around his waist and heavy goggles on his head, dodging around strange machines as though dancing with an invisible partner. He didn’t keep any lights on while he worked, relying on the subtle glow from dials and readouts. But that was just fine for Violet--her eyes were just as good.

“Hey dad!” she called, as soon as he didn’t have his head in something. “Mom sent me to get you.”

He froze, ears twitching for a moment in confusion at the sound. But then he noticed her, grinning. He closed the distance in a blur of wings and darkness, embracing her in an ozone-scented hug. “I thought we talked about breaking into work, muffin. Those transmitters are dangerous.”

But he didn’t sound mad, not really. He’d long since given up trying to keep her out. Keeping a young bat away from something they wanted to see was an impossible task, and they both knew it.

“I’m careful!” she squeaked. “‘sides, mom sent me this time! I’m not just ditching.”

Finally he settled her back down, lifting his goggles away from his eyes. “Alright then, muffin. Tell me.”

She did. Dad listened carefully, not interrupting her even one time. “That sounds like a good reason to come home early,” he finally said. “Stay right there, I just need to hang up my stuff. You can show me that corkscrew you’ve been practicing.” His eyes narrowed, just a little. “You are practicing your flight drills, aren’t you?”

Violet giggled in answer, turning to leave. “See you at home!” she galloped back out the way she came, not glancing behind her even once to see what Spark was doing. She slowed as she reached the door, hovering carefully between the antennas before zipping up into the air again, flying for home as fast as she could.

The weird pony was in good hooves now. Dad would take care of everything, like he always did.




> Bonus Chapter: Crystal Ball
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whenever Princess Cadance organized the annual Crystal Ball, she knew to expect strange creatures. The more universalist Equestria became, the more friends they made with distant tribes and species she'd never even known existed, the more of those creatures she began to see wandering around Equestria at large. Before too long, those even ended up visiting her parties.

Ponies could be flighty, even xenophobic at times. But the ponies of her Crystal Empire had never failed to impress her. They welcomed all who came, even if they had antlers instead of horns, or were a little too full of themselves and their proud ability to break things.

But the most frightening visitors of all didn't make a scene shattering crystal sculptures or eating the centerpieces instead of the horderves. He'd even dressed formally for the occasion, though Cadance didn't recognize the style of clothing he wore over mismatched limbs. 

She didn't even know the spirit of chaos had arrived, until quiet word had passed between guards, finally reaching her where she sat on her high throne beside her husband. 

"Princess," whispered Frosty Quartz, a recently recruited crystal guard. "Please, I don't mean to disturb you. But something happened. Princess Twilight is already involved, but she suggested we inform you as well."

He spoke in a low whisper, barely loud enough to hear over the gentle murmur of the crowd. Obviously, he didn't want to start a scene. Her husband had already trained him well. 

"What is it?" Shining asked, sitting up in his throne. Far smaller than hers, located on her right side. Instead of a suit, Shining dressed in precisely polished armor. As true to his name as a pony could be. "Anything that might be a concern for other guests?"

Frosty Quartz looked away. The party wasn't indoors—in spring, it was warm enough that they could use the vast expanse of land under the palace to shelter a party of such scale that even Canterlot would be envious. The area just under the palace was isolated from the rest—though the entire city got to participate, only those with unique connections to the Crystal Empire got to enter. Diplomats, emissaries, nobles from her city or others who had sponsored development projects in the Empire. 

"I'm not sure," he said. "Supposedly not. He's reformed, that's what everypony says. But it still seemed like you should know."

It didn't take long for Cadance to judge precisely where the trouble was. An island was forming in the party, with ponies and other creatures giving a single table more and more space. She could see only three creatures sitting there.

"I can deal with it," Shining said, rising from his throne. "You should enjoy the party, sweetheart."

She stood too, gliding down from the greater height and touching him lightly on the nose with one wing. "That is tempting, Shiny... but it won't work. Discord can't be dismissed. He's here for a reason, and I'm fairly certain it won't have to do with you." She kissed him lightly, then turned away. "Keep everypony calm, if you can. Hopefully he won't make a scene."

He nodded uneasily, but settled back into his throne as directed. "If you say so, sweety. But if you need me, call. I can have the guard mobilized in minutes if we have to."

She walked past the guard, waving him back to his post without a word. Discord did at least have some amount of respect for Shining Armor. But her soldiers—they'd be less than an annoyance to Discord if he was agitated. Best deal with this as quickly as possible.

She cut straight across the party, finding relief on the faces of so many ponies as she went. Apparently the word had begun to spread, and the desperation of these creatures grew. Time for somepony to resolve their fears.

But as she approached, she saw no sign of anger from Discord. His table wasn't even floating this time.

He stood as she approached, removing his hat and bowing politely to her. Well—he removed his entire head at the same time, with gruesome detail. "A special pleasure to see you, princess of an empire. Delightfully chaotic."

Cadence’s eyes narrowed. "We've been over this before, Discord. What do you want?" She turned to the other two occupants. Princess Twilight and her dragon assistant. Neither of them stood when she appeared, though Twilight waved eagerly at her with a wing. She doesn't look like she's going to blast him into arcane smoke yet. Maybe this won't be so bad.

"Please, join us," Discord continued, gesturing with one claw. One of the chairs began to move, its legs transforming to disturbingly realistic legs as it clopped over to her, practically scooping her right off the ground. 

Cadance bore the indignity of it, though her expression became increasingly tried by the moment. "If this is about your invitation again, Discord, I'm sorry. We don't have invitations, all are welcome."

"Oh, I know that." He took his own chair with equal grace, replacing his jacket and coat on the seat behind him. He didn't actually move his claws to eat the snacks in front of him, yet the plate's contents did shrink before her eyes, as though an invisible creature were devouring them. After a few seconds, Discord burped quietly, covering his mouth with one claw.

"Oh, where are my manners?" He gestured, and the tray of horderves levitated over to her. Except Cadance didn't recognize any of the snacks on it, or even the strangely reflective, thin material it was made from. What far-away land had Discord taken this from? And those pinkish slices—were those meat? 

Her stomach backflipped, and she pushed the tray away with a hoof. "It's a pleasure to have you here, Discord," she said. "But I have many subjects competing for my time. Why don't you tell me what brought you here."

"Weird stuff," Spike said, surprisingly without malice. While Twilight had avoided Discord's curious snack offerings, Spike's plate was piled high with it, and he ate with gusto. "Duh."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Discord said, puffing out his chest. "Actually, I've come to meet with you personally, Princess. I had similar questions for Twilight here—questions that concern your particular domain. I don't see the point of Equestria maintaining diplomatic offices over interpersonal relationships if you're not going to give useful advice when consulted."

Cadance blinked, trying to process what she'd just heard. "Is it about that pegasus friend of yours?" she asked. "You want to know if she feels the same way? I think so. But you should try to be a little less hostile around her friends. She'll respond well to kindness directed at the ones she loves."

Now it was Discord's chance to stare. For a full three seconds the spirit of chaos remained silent, utterly dumbfounded.

But then the moment passed. His expression became a mask, twisting with an artificial smile that even alicorn magic couldn't penetrate. "This isn't about me, exactly. It's a more general question theoretical. But you're the foremost expert in your field. So is Twilight. I come before you as a groveling student, desperate for wisdom."

And just like that, he was. He stood on the table in front of her, dressed in a tattered graduation robe, with a face that was somehow covered with acne despite his fur. But some things didn't have to make sense. "Please, wise and powerful pony, answer my questions. I don't have anywhere else to turn."

Cadance glowered down at him, patience wearing thin. "Will you promise not to disrupt my party if I do?" she asked, extending her hoof towards him. "Swear it."

The tiny version of discord folded both hooves, pouting suddenly. He took a few steps away, kicking at her silverware in frustration.

Then the real one appeared back in his chair. "I swear," he said, almost as frustrated as she felt. And just like that, Cadance relaxed. Discord might be a spirit of chaos, but she knew him better than most. She knew that being completely unexpected was just another kind of order. 

True chaos required contrasts. Discord would never break an oath. "Well now I'm interested," she said, grinning. "Something big enough that you'd give up causing trouble at my party. What could it possibly be?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Twilight said. "Good luck getting a straight answer. I couldn't."

Discord was already back to smiling. "I meant what I said—I have some questions, about the values of friendship and love. Twilight here tells me that love is really just a kind of friendship—perhaps the strongest kind of friendship there is."

"That's not—" But before Twilight could continue, an oversized sweet roll appeared in her mouth, so chewy and covered in frosting that it silenced her.

"That's true," Cadance said. "Or... it's part of the truth. Friendship and love aren't mutually exclusive. The word 'love' is simplistic. There are many kinds of love, and several might be felt for friends. Most creatures find their relationships deepen over time, love maturing as they come to better know and accept one another."

Discord sat still, and actually listened. "But what if... imagine a situation. Suppose you had thousands of different creatures all together, thousands of different friendships. Every kind of love in the world." 

"Okay..." Cadance said. "If you're thinking of tampering with my magic, Discord—don't. That pegasus definitely wouldn't like that."

Discord rapped against the table with one claw. "It's a hypothetical, Princess. And it wasn't finished. Suppose I wanted to know whose love was the strongest? If you had to look at that group of ponies, feeling every kind of love there is—who would you say would be able to go through Tartarus and back? Who would still be together when they were old and gray? Who would be able to get closer together, despite their differences?"

"Oh." Cadance relaxed into her seat, waving over a passing waiter. The pony glanced nervously at the creatures at their table, but she didn't keep him long. She just gestured at the bottle of champagne on his tray, and waited for him to pour them each a glass. He did, magic flickering unsteadily with every second.

"There are ponies who might give you a different answer, Discord. I'm not infallible." She took a sip from her glass, smiling politely.

He shrugged. "I trust you, just like I trust Twilight. In the dreadful mediocrity of always answering truthfully, you at least make yourselves reliable sources of information. Tell me what you think."

"It would be romantic love," Cadance said. "I know, my subjects would call me biased, since it's my domain. But it's the strongest glue there is. Romance holds every other kind of feeling wrapped inside. You know what it feels like, you can't hide that from me. It's a friendship, it's admiration, it's nurturing... and it's physical as well. Love speaks to every part of a creature, from their highest aspirations to their basest desires. Just as crystals form their strongest lattice when their layers stack on each other, so is romantic love made strongest by the presence of all the others."

He nodded, apparently satisfied with her answer. Discord sat up, and his tray vanished from in front of Spike.

"Hey!" 

But he ignored the dragon, bowing towards her again. "I might be about to put that theory to the test, Princess. I won't be happy if I've been misled." He grinned a toothy smile, stretching unnaturally wide.

She met his eyes, unmoved by the threat. The empire was hers. She wasn't going to be intimidated in her own home.

"Strength isn't always the best trait in a relationship," Twilight said, finally freeing her mouth from the roll. Or maybe it had just vanished. "Flexibility can be useful too! Think about it like metals—sometimes the strongest materials are the easiest to snap. They need a little ductility, just not so much that they deform. When that kind of love goes badly, it can take ponies down in flames."

"Oh, I know," Discord said, his voice cold. "That's a risk I'm willing to take. I hope you are too." He replaced his jacket, then waved. "Enjoy your party, princesses. I have preparations to make."

He vanished, leaving the three of them alone at the table, staring at the place he'd been standing.

It was Spike who finally broke the silence. "What the buck was that about?"

Cadance ignored the impropriety. "I don't know. But I think we're about to find out."
> Bonus 58.5: Holiday
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roseluck should not have been excited about traveling to another world. It was dangerous—a kind of danger that couldn't be easily explained or predicted. She did not understand the place Tracy came from, and she couldn't possibly comprehend all the strange things that happened there. It was the kind of place she should continue to avoid no matter what.

Yet from the very instant Tracy told her about the "holiday party" happening at his work, she found the excitement almost impossible to resist. 

It wasn't just the chance to drive his "car" again, though of course she'd elicited a promise that she would have an opportunity to drive.

It was also something as simple as getting a chance to meet the others like him—gangly bipeds brimming with strangeness and danger. What would it be like to meet them at one of their "holiday parties?"

Naturally the first thing she did was her research. This was no different than the preparations she might make when visiting one of the lesser bat festivals, insignificant enough not to be held in a proper cave. Tracy could tell her some things, but his machines contained even more. They didn't balk when she pressed them for information, or become exasperated after repeated questions.

"Alexa," she could say, addressing the flat piece of glass in Tracy's old bedroom. It had its own spot on the table, like a shrine. "Show me holiday dresses."

Just like casting a spell, the magic of Tracy's machines took hold, changing the images of his other world into pictures of... humans, wearing dresses.

She recognized the styles now, having worn a few on that side. But planning for a precise style when she was making clothes to bring across a Worldgate was ultimately a futile endeavor. Instead, Rose focused on the colors—lots of red and green, though there was a subset that relied primarily on blue and white instead.

They had a great deal in common with other things that ponies often used to celebrate the holiday as well—ribbons, bells, and the like.

Another pony might've been consumed with the coincidence between their worlds, twisting and turning as she tried and failed to figure out why they could be both so similar and so different at the same time.

Instead of being bothered by any of that, Roseluck brought her request to Rarity, and let the pony fit her for the occasion.

Then the big day came. Even Spark Gap dressed up, though his outfit wasn't half as interesting as hers. Black and white and gray, a little less formal than a suit. "You look like a unicorn," she said. Only a few minutes after breakfast, thanks to the time-difference between their worlds. 

Spark blushed, looking hastily away from her. "And you look... great."

"You can't compliment your way out," she said, nudging him with one shoulder. Not too hard—she always had to be careful when dealing with a non-earth pony. He didn't need more broken bones on her account.

They waited near the Worldgate, just long enough for him to glance out the side-window. Then he threw it open, and they hurried out in a rush. Maybe a little paranoid... or maybe not, considering they'd already been broken into once.

He might be a little clumsy in Equestria, but Spark suddenly seemed like a dancer when they stepped through to the other side. He came through behind her, then swiveled on one leg to shut the door behind her without wobbling even a little.

Then he stopped, watching her. "And you're starting again. Why do you always do this when we cross from Equestria to this place? I wear far more in your world than makes sense."

"It's an adjustment," he said. "I couldn't explain it."

They got into his car, which he didn't let her drive yet. Apparently there were only certain locations he was allowed to do that, and the streets of San Jose weren't one of them. "Tell me about this party," she said, as soon as they were moving. "What's the occasion, exactly?"

"Politically correct vaguely winter-corresponding holiday celebration," he said, his tone as flat as cement. "It's, uh... not as simple as Equestria." Yet he could somehow explain it while doing all the complex tasks of driving. He had to make a dozen little adjustments to the pedals and other controls, all while watching the road. "In this country, it's usually just two winter holidays—both of them are religious. But most people celebrate something, even if they're not religious themselves."

She tilted her head to one side. "You're right, that is confusing. Can you say it so it makes sense?"

He considered for a moment, pulling off the large road into a strangely sectioned-off area. Then he went into a building, and Rose jerked upright in her seat. She gripped both sides as hard as she could, so hard the plastic handle crunched under her grip.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice utterly unconcerned.

They didn't hit anything. A few seconds later, and her eyes adjusted to the sudden blinding light. "We're in a... house. For cars." It was much like the “lots” they usually put the car in, whenever he took her anywhere. Except they could go up, wrapping around and around until they found an empty place.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. Mostly it's to save space." He switched off the car, pocketing the keys. "I think I know how to explain this. We'll remember the fun things we did, have a few drinks, talk about our plans for next year. Most of the other people working at Apex are already married, or else in long-term relationships. So you might get a few uncomfortable questions about how many kids we have or whatever. Shouldn't be too bad, hopefully. Since the party is on work campus, no one can get too drunk. Hopefully that keeps us in the realm of reality."

She wasn't sure what most of that meant, except for the thing about kids. That was the word that humans used to describe their little fillies and colts, despite not being goats.

"I'll be good," she promised. "I just want to see what you do here, you know? You've been to the flower stand, you've helped work the retail side. I'd love to see what you do."

They walked together from the car, and soon they were joined by plenty of other people. They were all dressed more or less the same way as Tracy, though the mares had much more interesting variety in their clothing. An interesting parallel between their worlds.

But these didn't seem to be Tracy's work friends, because they exchanged only a few awkward words of greeting. 

They wandered through an underground path, then into a towering structure of steel and glass. For as impressive as these buildings would've looked in Equestria, here in Tracy's homeland they seemed almost painfully mundane. She'd driven past so many now that this blended in much like the others.

Then they stepped inside, and Rose was bombarded with more of those painfully white lights, shining from all directions as bright as daylight.

"Welcome to the party!" said a mare in a suit like Tracy's, just inside the doorway. Tracy presented a piece of plastic under a wand in her hand, until it beeped and turned green. Then she turned to Rose. "Your plus one, Mr. Maxwell?"

Without even waiting for his answer, she gestured at a row of identical rectangles. "Your name?"

"Rose," she said, trying to be as friendly as possible. "Is this the holiday party?"

The speaker didn't answer, but scribbled something in thick black marker. Rose's own name, written in the strange human script. Lots of long, graceful letters, many as tall as the bipeds themselves. 

As usual, Rose found she could read the markings, regardless of what world they were in. Good thing too, or else she would've had a hard time accepting Tracy's help with the flower stand. 

"Just put this on, so people know who you are." She settled the little slip of paper into Rose's fingers, then turned away. Just like that, she'd forgotten Rose was there, moving on to the next group. 

Tracy showed her how to peel away the back from one side, and how she could stick it to her dress. Rose did so, though she didn't keep herself from pouting as they walked away. "I have to wear it all night?"

He nodded sadly, taking the slip of plastic with his photo and settling it around his neck. "Company policy, unfortunately. You know how it is."

She didn't, but Rose didn't point that out. Instead she followed him, through a strange maze of glass walls and corridors. Most of the building was dark at this hour, though a few doors were open with small groups of humans visible chatting inside. But they didn't linger near them long enough for Rose to get to know what they might be saying.

The halls were packed, but in a way that was a good thing. There were so many creatures inside that she almost felt comfortable speaking freely. "How many humans work here?"

"A few hundred," he said absently. "I know that... probably sounds like a lot. But I don't run into that many of them. Here, my department is just through these doors. You can meet everyone."

He took them through a nearby doorway, into one of the nearly identical smaller sections.

No wonder Tracy likes spending time in Equestria so much. Living here is like being a single wheel under a railway. 

The room was decorated, though any pony worth their apples would've blanched in embarrassment at such a loathsome job. The walls had been covered in green paper, with the occasional paper snowflake clumsily attached. There were a few green cloths on some of the tables, which were piled high with holiday snacks.

Rose recognized some of these from Equestria, and others from Tracy's machine.

"Rose, you made it! I did not expect to see you again." Janet made her way over, crossing out of a small group of chatting humans. Like so many of the mares in this building, she'd chosen an outfit apparently meant to hide how graceful and pretty she looked. Or maybe it was just easier to dress like the stallions did, with bland black slacks and a jacket.

Her smile looked genuine, anyway. "Welcome! You two should have some punch." She lowered her voice to a mischievous whisper. "One glass, then wait. I didn't see anything, but I taste it, if you feel me." She raised a glass in one spindly hand, which ended in brightly painted nails. So maybe in some ways she did want to act like a mare? The inconsistency only made her harder to understand!

"Thanks!" Rose said, grinning stupidly back. "I wasn't sure Tracy would let me come. I don't know why, but he seems afraid of letting me learn what he does here."

Tracy made an embarrassed sound, shuffling to one side to fill a pair of glasses. Apparently “punch” meant the same thing on this side, a bowl of nondescript, vaguely reddish liquid that ponies drank too much of. 

"Hey, Lori, look!" called a voice from nearby, pointing in their direction. "Tracy, is she with you? You can't be serious." A stallion, taller than Tracy, though much more thickly built. Like a stack of squishy bricks.

"Yes, Eric," Tracy said, returning with the glass. "This is Rose. I don't know why I would lie. Or why Janet would."

Rose took the glass, then took one sip and nearly dropped it in surprise. So that was what Janet meant! It wasn't nearly as good as some of the things she'd shared with Tracy in his world. She took another long sip anyway. 

"I want to hear it from her," said Eric, staring at her. "Do you even know who this guy is?"

Rose glanced sidelong at Tracy, giggling. "Oh, him? Yeah. We've slept together for a few months now. Is that what you wanted to know?"

As expected, Tracy turned redder than her dress. But what weapons worked on him also worked on the little crowd, which scattered as quickly as it had formed. All except for Janet. Her eyes narrowed at the remark, and she leaned up to Rose, dropping her voice to a whisper. "I expect you two to behave. Don't do anything weird while you're at work, Tracy. You know the rules."

"I won't," he said. "Nothing weird. We're just here for the party."
> Bonus Chapter: Postalogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracy stared down at the pony in his living room, taking in her terrified visage. She might not be physically shaking anymore, as she had been when he first arrived. But she couldn't hide the fear from her scent. This was a pony on the edge of their endurance.

Now did Discord intend for you to run into me, or was that an accident? 

"Why don't you start with the details you remember," he said, taking the seat across from her. He shifted slightly in the seat, adjusting his legs. It had been long enough that he barely even remembered the old human taboos. But he could smell that shyness in her. A little too much of that, and Roseluck would start getting jealous.

"I'll bring refreshments," Rose said, vanishing into the kitchen. "Come along, Violet. Let's let the aliens talk amongst themselves."

"Aliens," The crystal pony repeated, watching the filly go. Violet moved only reluctantly, but she was obedient enough that it didn't turn into an argument. The two of them vanished down the hallway into the kitchen, leaving Spark and the new pony in the den. "And you've been stuck here... long enough that you have a family. Oh god. This is one of those Star Trek episodes, isn't it? Where the captain is stuck somewhere for so long that they abandon hope of ever going home. I'm doomed."

"Well... maybe. Maybe not." He resisted the urge to interrogate her about that old property. How awesome it would be to see what new content had come out since his departure from Earth. But it was easy enough to banish the thought. 

Spark Gap had chosen another life. He could accept the sacrifices. "Why don’t you tell me your name. I’m Spark Gap, I think you already heard that. Or you can call me Tracy, if you prefer.”

“Michele, Michelle Hughes,” she said, voice faint.

“Nice to meet you, Michelle. Why don’t you start by telling me what you agreed to? What did you sign?"

"I, uh... a contract, I guess? I know I should've been more careful, but I was desperate! You don't get a deal like this one every day."

"You sure don't," Spark agreed. "First thing's first, you're not stuck. Read the terms—Equestria doesn't keep you prisoner forever. I'm pretty sure Discord isn't allowed to keep you for more than a year."

"It was..." She trailed off, turning as Rose re-entered. She must've been baking those cookies already, because they smelled fresh. Lucky coincidence for Michelle, then. "Wait, allowed? You telling me this curse has some kinda rules behind it?"

He took one using a wing, and that evoked the desired reaction. There was something particularly impressive about displays of dexterity like that when you couldn't imagine how to function without hands. 

"Thank you, sweetheart. What's the occasion?"

Rose shrugged. "Might have to wait. See if your new friend needs any help first." She left as quickly as she came. Spark caught one final glimpse of a set of slitted bat-eyes peeking through the door before Rose clicked it closed, and the two of them were alone again.

"So the one who brought you, Discord—you're probably better off not knowing too many details. Just think of it like this: whatever you signed, he can't break the rules. He can ignore the laws of physics, but not an oath you've both sworn. Does that make sense?"

"Not even a little." She nudged one of the cookies with her nose, then finally got over herself enough to pick up a chocolate chip cookie in her mouth. She chewed, and visibly relaxed into her seat. There was something special about warm cooking, particularly the fresh ingredients ponies used. "Just tell me how to get out of it. Someone on this side has to know... guess it's you."

How could anyone go back to eating on Earth after this? 

"There's no magic bullet, unfortunately. I've known of some others who made a contract like yours in the past. Sometimes they want to go back where they came from when they're done. Other times they stay." And every single one of them was someone Discord thought was vulnerable to being persuaded to move between worlds, and they almost always did.

"I just needed somewhere to give me an education cert," Michelle continued. "I maybe thought someone was going to falsify their credentials and give me a degree from a school that didn't exist. But that isn't the same as kidnapping me!"

"You... oh, really?" He finished the cookie he'd been nursing, then sat up. "There's only one big school in town, you’re too old for the other one. They have dorms for most of the students, though locals can go home on weekends."

Her mouth fell open. “You can't be serious. There's... actually a school here? And you honestly think that 'Discord' expects me to go? It was a joke, just like this whole... stupid place. You'll think so, when you hear it. This isn't some trade school, or even an online university. It's a school of 'Friendship.' What does that even mean? How do you go to school for that?"

She fished around in one of her many pockets, coming up with several folded sheets. She set it on the table between them, flattening them out with one hoof. Spark didn't recognize the patterns moving down the sides, like a complex QR code. Must have something to do with whatever devices people were using back home these days.

But the dense, perfect scrawl of Discord's handwriting was as familiar as ever. Despite his chaotic nature, every time he wrote a contract the words were noted with precision. He didn't entrap people by tricking them into signing something they couldn’t read—the fun was apparently in getting them to agree while the insanity was in plain sight.

Tracy didn't need to read the whole thing to get the gist—Michelle here had agreed to attend two semesters at the school, beginning with the fall. She would get to go home for usual breaks, and weekends, but that was it. In fact, she was required to go back to Earth for those periods, though she was encouraged to bring her friends with her if they wanted, and would even be allotted a stipend for each one who came along.

You're really upping your chaos game on this one. But Spark didn't express his anger and involuntary appreciation for the audacity of it. That wouldn't help Michelle feel better.

"And you read all this?" he asked, after skimming over the most important bits."

She nodded. "Not until I got here. I have this bus pass..." She tossed it onto the table between them. More like a bracelet, though it was obviously wide enough to accommodate a whole hoof. “I scan it while I step on, and the whole place changes. It's way worse than LSD, and then I'm here. But it doesn't work in reverse. There's no road on this side, no bus."

"Yeah, you use the train." He slid the contract back to her. "It's not the weekend, so you can't go back. You should be using this time to prepare for the first day of school tomorrow. You have five more days before your bus comes."

"You're shitting me." She leaned down over the contract, practically devouring that section. It was all fine print, densely packed and indistinguishable. But the subheadings gave it away.

"This can't be okay," she said, hyperventilating all over again. "Who do we call? There's gotta be a lawyer somewhere in town who can help me. I can't pay much, but... maybe they'll take the case pro bono?"

He chuckled. "I don't know about 'okay', but Discord is basically a god. There's no one who could stop him even if they wanted to. And what he does—" Usually ends up being for your own good. Even if it doesn't feel like that at first. "Don't bother fighting it the way you're thinking. You signed this, and he didn't compel you. That's it. All you can choose to do now is decide what you'll do with your next few semesters in Equestria." 

He rose, turning to the window. "I could take you to the campus, if you like. Help you meet your..." Did any of the human-college words apply? Probably not. "RA? Yeah. I've lived here in Ponyville long enough that I know my way around. Or..." He glanced once at the door, and the set of slitted eyes peeking in, watching eagerly. "Actually, I have a better idea. My daughter could show you around. The campus doesn't have very many students my age, but she's almost old enough to attend."

He waved one wing, looking Violet right in the eye. "Don't just stare, Violet. Come on in."

She did, and at least had the decency to look embarrassed at being caught. That was more than Indigo would've done.

Michelle stood up, shuffling nervously back and forth. Like she was preparing to run away, but kept realizing that she had nowhere to go. "You can't just be expecting me to accept this! It's evil, it's kidnapping! We should fight it together!"

Spark shook his head once. "It is all those things. But I'm not going to get into a fight I know I won't win. That's just... one of those things you come to accept, living here in Equestria. Sometimes there are things bigger than you out there in the world. You learn to deal with some, or you get out of the way. You don't step out onto the tracks and demand the train to stop."

"You'll like it here!" Violet said helpfully, circling around the obviously unhappy pony. "Mom says Dad didn't like Equestria either when he first got here. But he changed his mind after a while... you will too! It's a really nice place to live. We've got magic here, lots of things to do..."

Michelle kicked at the couch with one hoof. It thunked loudly, resonating through her crystal body. Spark winced, but couldn’t see any cracks. Just how fragile were crystal ponies, anyway?

"If you ever need anything, come back to the flower shop, we'll try to help." He stood too. "I'm sorry that wasn't the answer you wanted."





Violet led the strangely overdressed pony back out into the streets of Ponyville. It was almost nightfall now, though that didn't mean a return to comfortable darkness. She'd have to go outside the city limits if she wanted to experience real dark on her eyes. She didn't think the odds of that were terribly high tonight.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, with Michelle proceeding at a modest mope. She dragged her hooves through the dirt, occasionally kicking small rocks. Without her strange shouting and begging others for help, they didn't attract the constant stares and pointing. There would be no royal guard showing up.

"What about you?" Michelle finally asked, after a few minutes of trudging through Ponyville. "You know you dad comes from another world. Does it bother you?"

Violet took off, hovering along just ahead of Michelle. That way she wasn't shorter—let the new pony be the one to look up at her. "Nah, nothing like that. I think maybe it's a little lame that he used to go on adventures, but now he wants to stay here and be boring all the time. Not that Ponyville isn't great. But how could a pony see all those amazing things, then come back and stick in one place?"

The School of Friendship appeared before them, its towers juxtaposed strangely against Ponyville's rural architecture. The smell of moving water and thick greenery overtook the dust and earth pony sweat scent that normally dominated Ponyville.

Michelle was silent for a long time, taking in the waterfall, the elegant buildings. Her eyes lingered on the crowds of students moving in and out. Many of them had bags overflowing with classwork. But there were others, freshly moved in, that carried little more than she did. Ponies didn't wear much, and the school provided everything they could need.

Too bad Violet hadn't gotten in. It looked like fun!

"I don't know if you'd see it that way, in my place," she finally said. "Imagine if you were kidnapped, taken away from home. It's not like you have a lot to go back to... but it's the principle of the thing. You liked the place you lived. You'd built things there. You didn't want to give them up."

Violet landed on the grass in front of her, grinning. They'd already been noticed—was that the headmare? Starlight Glimmer turned towards them, expression weary. Were we keeping her waiting?

"I'd be scared. But I think I'd try to make the best of it. Maybe I'd make some new friends while I was there. Worth a try!"